










\ 



Class 

Rnnk j 

GoipghtU?. 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 


I 




. ■ J 



> .• ^ ifQV 


•Ji- 


ff. 


■ .<■ ' V 


f , 




il 


•r ■' il***’- *'mi '-■ 

; ^ /*',', Jf.'i’i.'' ,, ■'.' .’ “*■ . ^ • 

.U, 




^ *» 



R’v '•■»?■' 


.■» ,• 


■ . ''fo'i'-n. 


■» . * r . ■' . .1 


• » 




« « 


- • i 


s < 


/; 


A? 




'S' 


-V 


■’ I ' .\ 




W- 


' •> 







'.:H. 


' ■■'■ ' ' • ■ ' r ' It 


T^' ' ^ -V : :': 

• f f ^' . ' f . • 


' p- *ii. »''i^ • ' ■ '»'^ !• • '* v 

■ 1 .- 'r.i »•" 

, V * • i . \* ' ’^••/ '• ,' ^ 

* ■ ‘ / I ' V > ■ ' 





( « 




*’ 0 " ''■*/•.;* ' '■ ■•■' ’ V*^ 




‘ ' ;it'» •■ *iii ' ‘t f ‘^v 







I 


I'. 


V ‘ 



*■> 






Wi 


T ■ *' 




, •ji' 


' . vP 




/fV- ■*» , . 


,» , 


. ■ r ’» .'^ 


»• 




'■/ 


i'^ 


^ *» 


# 

» 

1 • 

. ' j ' ' ^ 

. /‘ f *' 

‘'7f . ' ' 

' -'-Wii J\ /i. 


Wllr’ <7 ■ 


V.' < ■ v'. S' ' 

I, 


f*"/; 


VK^f» I ‘S? " HiMinBB ' ' ‘ . 

|HK-.3>r ;'i ■ 

^nn^N||Ha « ^ .s * • ti ^ V * *«• <.' V S' * 1 V ^ • f •'. I - • ' w 





- • 


■iTAf • 1 



• 1 . 


» '/ 



,..a' ' 'M 






m* ^ 


t>' V 


LV • 









' * ' 



f s-j? ' ''V- ■ 

<-> ,; .-r '*'.n, *■- ,^'’J'-- ' '> •'■ .bn 


. 



4 h 


« 4 







* 


F~ 


i‘ ». ..• 


V I 




• »i 



•.L 


a 




!»/, 


*' ^ 1 ' -♦ ■•*‘' '-. 5 . 

, .., ' ■ u 






'■ ■•^*' • ' 1 ^ ^ ' -* 

• ‘ • tv I ‘ '1 ^ U ^ •• i > J 

■ ■ ■‘:-y{'^ii „•'.• . J 











he Three Rivers Twins. 


TheThree Rivers Kids 


By 

F. H. CHELEY, 

\ 

Author of “Buffalo Roost." 



ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR 


CINCINNATI: JENNINGS AND GRAHAM 
NEW YORK: EATON AND MAINS 


T 


i 



Copyright, 1914, 
BY F. H. Cheley 



MAy -7 1914 


©CI.A369984 





r 


I 




■I'- 


' I.' 








. i.ii 


TO 

^arria J^urlburt Jberljart 

WHO WAS A BOY AMONG BOYS 
AND 

WHOSE IDEALS ARE THE LIVING SPIRIT 
OF 

Cmap ^berl|art 




'* >1 




W -* V -: 






.1 »i 




m— 


' V . .7 




( J 


^II 






» V 


>v >f? 


' t 


; rf^i 

i - j . I 




if 


>11 


c 


’ t 








t» 


\S^ 


■Wid ‘ • •. r :: 

:‘.1» 


r 


‘w.‘ 


/i'tir 






Vi' 


1 


4V 


« 1 


r^-# .• *f • v*’. 


V/ .f 


f: 


i - ' if , 




* 




r.r 


•^)U' 


' A ■ * 

f- 'v ' 






- J. V '^5 




bi’A 




• W 






Dl 


. • if . 






k^jt *.-r ,7 




^ ■ ' 






/■ ♦ 




Mr- 


^r*.i 


»• k 




W<*7/^ 


i/ 


1 






• .-J 


1^ 


.i' 






I « 


« , 


?• 


• .m .- r ^ TT ^ 

€-‘* 


■7 ‘ 


i * 


. 1 - 


ir\. 


•‘ r 


t 4 


4f 


-iJ! 


y 






li 


«!• - 




I X/ 




i J 






i f** 


4 


* *.3 




t «. 


iW 


.»' « 






» .y'7l»7y''^ /i 




*<f J '■■»* .It.H 




^ » i: 






, { 


I. > 


V!P» 




« > 


Vt 


i ' t 


r 4 »« 




i V *-'' ■ ^ 

.- -> AW * 


M — 




W 


<»r** 


S(' 


ii' 


<!•“ r 




■» •*. 


4 1 




ca . 




w- «. 




* % * 


>f ^ I - * ‘ ■ 


r»* 


l\:>ir 




t ,-( 


f ' - Jl ^ 


-fi 


' l^Vi 


' 


A 


> ' 




^ Ui* 


i 




ti .ty 




■s 




>•1 


•i 








.V« 


\“ 


















'O' 




u ^ » ;*ar 

s,. •'^ 


»< 


tJI 


^ I 






^ S 




I'.'-. 











CONTENTS 


«'»apter 

I. The Twins Arrive AT Camp, - - 11 

II. The Three Rivers Kids Make 

Friends, 25 

III. The Twins Prove Too Much for 

THE Crowd, - - - - 37 

IV. In Which Dale Worth Makes a 

Mistake, . - _ . 55 

V. A Hard Decision, - . . . 75 

VI. Concerning an Accident and How 

Harold Made Good, - - 89 

VH. The Stunts and Harold’s Reward, 111 

VHI. Sunday in Camp Eberhart, - - 129 

IX. The Clever Twins, - - - - 142 

X. Digging Up Indian Mounds, - 173 

XI. A Ghost in the Night, - - - 189 

XII. Professor Grouch Pays the Penalty 203 

XHI. Hesikia’s Treasure Chest, - - 211 

XIV. In Which Some Things are Explained 241 












»i 










vj 


yv 


h 


n' 






'.K\ 




BfiS 




» i 


•» % 


• « 


m 




P 


^7» 


k ' * 4-— 1 


'tf 




A 


tlj ^<7. 




i> 


'.t'^X ' ' . 

. Rt>n' 

•*t 

' i 


4 i 






tf 


'ili 


-4 


<1^ 


k^J« 




. •• V'H •. , 

* . _. _ - » 2^ ». A. • ; 


I 1 


1 ^. 


to.-r* «>.r tW 


‘.♦‘A') 


*< 'I 


'ti 


■1: 




irfV 






t.Ui 


‘f 




• ,!i' f>"5J.,,r,.' '^-.ai^- .Ml/ 

!■ * f • ■ -‘.S'l 


L.»< 




m 


\v 


i 



r^V' 

'to - j 




; *• 






i; 




.r 








V* 






fr * 








>v 


* i 










ki\ 










TT 




'Sk'^.V 




4/ 




S' 


\ r ( « 


/ »' 


« K 


If 




‘ T*. 


a 


■i- * ' >1 





•I 




.% . \ f: 


■r* 


Ki: 




i't 


V 


^ • 





P*‘'.^.. ■ -.:U: ,l,.;j| .^,V« 

».• L-k'-’ru , -■<^ _, 

; VP ■' Kn I * A - j 


A^ #* 44r m-' \ li 


,> . i' 


•^‘ ’»ii 

ii:* . U 








LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


The Three Rivers Twins, - - Frontispiece ^ 

FACING PAGE 

The Tents Were Pitched, - - - - 20 

At Such Times Hearts Were Warmed, 38 ^ 
One God, One Nation, One Flag, - - 60 ^ 

The Good Ship Dingbat, - - - - 90 ^ 

O, They Would Enjoy This Hike, - - 172 ^ 

The Air Was Blue With Smoke, - - 178 ^ 

In A Second the Torches Were Applied, - 208 ^ 

The Treasure Chest of Hesikia Thomson, 222 
You Fellows Must Have Been a Fishing, 254 





7 , 


1 1 





I" 


% 


■ ii.»V 


\ .* 


■■i‘ 


'-Umi 






t; 


;v^> 


>i: 






« -* 


r 


,ii 


iT 


V»s '* K* *“ > 


,4' . . M 4^3 ^ Viippf.:HS 

^ » .i t ! kt\ — aBf*fcr-4MFA^n;^ 


vw 


1^' 








■j **«;?■ 


X'. 


II 


lU-vK I'v ‘iTP y^ 

^ iW i Vw% • ' »> * 'trf' WJ 


•4*2' 


i5 


'»\ 








^■^■V-"'' ‘.V /* 




jfi? 


• ' S: 


rr^' 


'!(•, ■: /Af 

" -tfe 


.J' ""J* 


. ^ 




•^« 


\^w 

« ' i '^i- i‘,3i?l 




? . 
r'v, -.(. *^4 


1 




'U fr. 

> ‘ •- 


•* ‘- • 


XVv" 




^ It 


■ A *. V 

™!ltM,'/>-''0'i 


^4 






w 


.4*3f 








% • 




.-I 


^ ' 


? >• 


,f *; ^ ■'. 


ir*4 ^ • 1? ’ 


'4>' 


i>. - * 




_ h 




I*-- 


^ V 


1 I 


.•* 


f¥ 




r-t’ 




iL%j 


w 


J . •* 


tjikf*" f 
:^' * .• -. f>h- 


/>*?■> 


/t 


-Ti 


'i^ 


J. 


,1! 




f * 






*•> 






-I ■•< 

"•■I 




• I • 




fi 








f 


>A, :< 


» I 




* V ' Afl 


V 


-r: 


r1>- 


• I 


lU 


«. # 




jW, 








-. J 








THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


I 







h 




« 







I 






0 * 

I I 


« 


i 


2 





« 






I 





< 


r 

\ 

\\ 


I > 



CHAPTER I 

THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 

S EE the big flag over yonder, just 
above the trees?’’ asked Mr. George 
as he pointed his finger in the direc- 
tion of the camp. “She lies right there on 
the north side of the lake.” 

The three boys, who were the only other 
occupants of the heavy farm wagon, 
peered searchingly in the indicated direc- 
tion, but to no avail. 

“You ’re stuffing us,” said Leonard, the 
oldest boy, “for I do n’t see any flag.” 

Just then the wind caught the limp ban- 
ner and spread it to the breeze. Vincent 
and Harold caught sight of it at the same 
instant, and a wild shout went up, much 
to the delight of Mr. George. Then the 
two younger boys, who were twins, 
hugged each other in feverish excitement. 

“ ’Bout ten miles yet, I suppose?” grum- 
bled Leonard. 


II 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


''Aw, it is n’t more than eight,” quickly 
replied Vincent. Then turning, he put the 
question direct to the driver: 

"It isn’t, is it, Mr. George?” 

The wagon rattled slowly down a long, 
rough hill, and the flag was lost in the 
tree-tops for the time being. The horses, 
a magnificent pair of dark bays, were pull- 
ing hard on the lines, and the driver was 
for the instant busy, but when they began 
to climb the next long rolling incline he 
made answer. 

"O, it ’s just about two miles,” then 
laughed. The boys had already learned in 
their half hour’s journey from Corey Sta- 
tion that Mr. George could not be hurried 
in his statements. However, they noticed 
the merry twinkle in his gray eyes, heard 
his friendly chuckle, and waited patiently. 

"It ’s easy enough to see that you boys 
are from the city,” he laughed. "You 
don’t know a mile from a rod, do you? 
Where do you fellows come from, any- 
way? Chicago, I suppose.” 

"Not on your life,” cried Harold, with 
some feeling. "We ’re from Three Rivers, 
12 


THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 


and we’re the Rotting boys. Haven’t 
you ever heard of us? Me an’ Vincent ’s 
twins, and Leonard ’s one year older, but 
either of us can lick him.” 

‘"Thunderation!” snorted Leonard. 
''Now you fellows begin to blow. You ’d 
think, to hear you talk, that you were fa- 
mous already in these parts.” 

Mr. George laughed, and urged on the 
horses. "Well, I ’ll bet everybody for a 
mile around here will know you before 
you ’ve been here a week, anyway.” 

There was a low, swampy place just to 
the right of the road, and as the wagon 
drew near it Vincent suddenly jumped out 
and dived into the long swamp grass. 

"What’s he after now?” asked Mr. 
George, as he pulled in the horses. But 
by that time Vincent had reappeared, mud 
from head to foot, his face beaming. He 
held his prize proudly up for inspection. 

"First camel-back I ’ve seen this sum- 
mer,” he cried as he held up the strug- 
gling turtle. "I ’ll make a belt-buckle out 
of him.” He climbed back into the wagon, 
extracted a piece of twine from his pocket, 

13 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


and tied the turtle fast by the hind leg in 
less than a jhfy. The loose end of the 
string he fastened to a button on his coat, 
and slid the turtle into his pocket. 

Suddenly Mr. George felt a sharp slap 
on his shoulder, followed by another, and 
then another. He turned quickly, and a 
scowl clouded his kindly face. Vincent 
noticed it and became intensely embar- 
rassed. 

“Excuse me, Mr. George,’’ he said. “I 
did n’t mean to be fresh, but I wanted to 
kill that big horsefly for my turtle.” Then 
the smile came back again. “Gee, I ’d hate 
to be shut up in a dark hole like that with- 
out anything to eat, would n’t you?” and 
he patted the pocket of his coat. Mr. 
George only smiled as he gave the horses 
a little tap with the lines. 

Harold had taken a great liking to the 
old gentleman, and to show it he climbed 
down from the trunk upon which he was 
sitting and into the seat beside Mr. George. 
Vincent held the same ideas, and in a sec- 
ond followed his brother. Here they sat for 
the remainder of their short ride, listening 

14 


THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 


with breathless interest to Mr. George's 
descriptions of how the country had 
looked when he came into it as a boy. He 
told them of how the original room of his 
farmhouse had been built years before he 
came there, by an old Indian trader who 
had gone crazy in his old age, and how the 
orchard back of his house was more than 
seventy-five years old and was still yield- 
ing. He told them story after story, as he 
had heard them, of the Black Hawk War, 
and of the purchase by the Government of 
the Indian lands, until they were really 
sorry when the road turned sharply and 
they passed through an iron gate and on 
to the lake road, which was a shady path 
along the north side of Little Corey. As 
they passed, the red-winged blackbirds 
scolded from the trees, while their slate- 
colored mates bobbed restlessly up and 
down on the slender cat-tail stalks along 
the water's edge. 

''Believe me," whispered Harold, "I 'll 
bet there are a thousand young blackbirds 
in that cat-tail swamp. I 'm coming to see 
early in the morning. Will you come, too, 
Vincent?" 15 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


‘‘Not on your life. I 'm going to fish. 
I got to have a fish right away. Why, it 
seems like nearly a hundred years since 
I Ve been fishing,'' replied his brother. 

“O, shucks!" said Leonard, in a scorn- 
ful tone. “You could n't even get a good- 
sized mosquito bite in this pond." 

“Is that so?" retorted Vincent. “I'll 
bet I can catch a dozen yellow-bellies be- 
fore you can. Will you bet?" 

Just then they came to a second large 
gate, and on it was nailed a sign which 
read: 




CAMP EBERHART 


I 


PLEASE 



In a second both boys were off the seat 
and swinging open the gate. They did 
not climb on the wagon again, but set 
off posthaste for camp, the first glimpse 
of which could just be seen at the end of 
the road. Soon they stopped, and stood 
irresolute. There was the camp spread 


THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 


out before them, the long street of khaki 
tents, the bath-house, the pier, the long 
line of trim steel row-boats, pulled well 
upon the white sand beach, and boys com- 
ing and going in every direction. The 
Twins had felt perfectly at home on the 
wagon, but now they were abashed. It 
was all so new, and besides every human 
form was a strange one to them. As if by 
common consent they retreated to the ap- 
proaching wagon and, without a word, 
climbed on. Their eyes were very large 
and shining, but their voices had departed. 

The wagon rattled over the coarse 
gravel of the beach, then turned directly 
in front of the long row of tents. The 
heavy rumble of the wagon and Mr. 
George’s good-natured ‘'Whoa-a !” had 
already come to be a signal to the campers 
that there were more new arrivals. Ac- 
cordingly the boys began to gather from 
all sides to ''size up the greenies,” as they 
said. 

It seemed like an enormous crowd to 
the Bottings, and they hesitated about 
getting out of the wagon. Meanwhile 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


their trunk and other baggage was being 
set on the ground. Mr. George handed a 
packet of letters to one of the older boys, 
who immediately began calling off the ad- 
dresses to the group about him. 

“Here, you 'Shrimp!’ Here’s a letter 
from your dad;” and, “Collins, that’s for 
you;” and, “Bill Ruthford, there is your 
frog lamp. I’ll bet a dollar. Longley! — 
My, O, my! Smell the perfume on that 
one. Johnnie, here ’s your book from 
mamma.” And so on through the list. 
Each boy fortunate enough to receive a 
letter slipped off to some secluded spot 
where he could read it and re-read it 
without being too closely watched. 

As the letters were being given out a 
large, muscular man pushed his way 
through the crowd to the boys in the 
wagon. He was clad in khaki trousers and 
sleeveless jersey; his arms were burned 
to a beautiful brown, and his muscles — 
the new arrivals stared in wide-eyed won- 
derment. They had never seen such a 
powerful man before, and as they stood 
looking at him they were just barely con- 
18 


THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 


scious that he was speaking to them. 
Then he laughed — a clear, happy, good- 
natured laugh — and they came back to 
earth. He was asking them about their 
baggage. Then his eye caught sight of 
the trunk and valises on the ground. 

‘‘My name is Cooper,’’ he was saying, 
“and you fellows must be the Botting 
boys.” They nodded. 

“Well, we ’re glad you ’re here, fellows. 
Hope you enjoyed your ride. We have 
heard a lot about you, and have been won- 
dering all day just what you ’d look like.” 
Then he laughed again. Vincent looked 
at him with admiration in his eyes. 

“Guess you think we ’re kind of small, 
don’t you?” he asked, in a queer little 
voice. 

“O, do n’t mind that,” replied Cooper, 
in a friendly tone. “The best things al- 
ways come in small packages ; at least I ’m 
sure that ’s the case this time. Now, let ’s 
see. O, Mr. Verne!” He turned and 
shouted to a tall, red-haired man who was 
standing at the wash bench, removing his 
whiskers with a wicked-looking razor. 

19 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Mr. Verne! Come here just a second. 
These are the Dotting boys. We are go- 
ing to give you the Twins for Tent One, 
and we dl assign Leonard to Four.’’ 

Harold stepped over as close to Cooper 
as he could, and in a loud whisper asked, 
“Can’t we be in your tent, Mr. Cooper? 
I ’d like to have a bunk right next to 
yours.” 

“Sorry, boys, but my tent is all full. 
Mr. Verne will fill the bill just as well. 
He will assign you bunks and put you 
next to things now, and I will look after 
Leonard.” 

Cooper and Leonard started away, and 
the Twins were compelled to wait for the 
whiskers operation to be completed. Now 
and then Mr. Verne would direct a word 
or two at them through the lather, but 
for the most part these were lost on the 
Twins, for they were far too busy seeing 
things just then, to listen to commonplace 
remarks. 

“I do n’t like that duck,” whispered Vin- 
cent, pointing to a tall, gauche boy who 
was telling a group of smaller fellows in 
20 


he tents were pitched in a beaiitifid grove not far back from the 
ivater's edge. 




.' v^-*. . ^ . •. 


«’ 1 ^ 4*V ‘ «’ • 


Pv' I / ^ f ^ ^ *. /' *tf¥ « 

..-ii'Vxv • ,. 







' '/*vS' ■ 




[^LWr^ .r > . . 

-<^;'f:'*>i'x'' '.A’cSM 

Ir-sf^aU - , iJJT* 




^ ■ * • ■ • ' I VK ■ 

• j^-^k 

' 1^ A ' ^ “ ^.kir ^ ViH 



J *7 . ' 


* • ’ f 


, «•• 


'S: 



T ' 


L ll‘ 


L* » 


vv. 


'm. 


» ^ f. 



« 


ys— •V’ . . ' • 

-/'■ J V ft • ' ■ r . S 

■ m 


. 1 . 




ilL ' 







THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 


a very bossy voice just how the camp 
ought to be run. 

“Why do n’t you like him?” questioned 
Harold, who loved an argument. 

“ ’Cause I heard him call us dittle runts’ 
and say something about the 'day nursery’ 
to that other kid.” 

“O, fiddle,” replied Harold, “we ’ll take 
a poke at him if he gets smart. I ’ll bet 
he ’s a poor sport all over. We ’ll keep 
our eye on him anyway.” 

The tents were pitched in a beautiful 
grove not far back from the water’s edge. 
Each tent in the long row gave shelter 
to seven boys and a leader. The canvas, 
double-decked bunks were grouped in the 
middle of the tent and were all screened in 
with white cheese-cloth. Directly in front 
of each bunk on the cement floor was room 
for a trunk, camp box, or other baggage. 
Along both sides of the tent, parallel with 
the bunks, was a row of hooks, and on 
these were hung all sorts and descriptions 
of clothing. Each boy took care of his 
own bed, keeping it clean and in order, 
besides being directly responsible for the 
21 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


condition and general tidiness of his share 
of the tent. 

Both boys were assigned lower bunks, 
and the unpacking was at once begun. 
The city clothes were quickly changed for 
the camp costume of khaki and outing 
shoes. Beds were made, cheese-cloth 
tacked up, fishing tackle put in a conven- 
ient place, and everything was placed in 
readiness to begin the real days of camp- 
ing. 

‘T ’m hungrier than a hay-baler,’’ con- 
fided Vincent. ‘T wonder when they eat.” 

'T do n’t know,” came the answer, ''and 
I suppose we can’t eat much, or they will 
think we are pigs. These new camp duds 
have the tiniest, dinky pockets in them. 
They ’re no good at all. Gee, I do n’t be- 
lieve you could even get three apples in 
them. Say, Vincent, I got an idea,” con- 
fided Harold. "I ’m going to cut the bot- 
tom of my side pockets oflf and sew a 
stocking on to each one. It won’t show, 
and — thunderation, boy! — I got to carry 
a knife, a bobber, some sinkers, and — and 
a whole lot of paraphernalia in them.” 

22 


THE TWINS ARRIVE AT CAMP 


‘'What’s ‘paraphernalia/ you rube? 
Who taught you that?” questioned Vin- 
cent, suspiciously. 

‘‘Well, it ’s everything a fellow has to 
have to go camping. I read it in a book. 
I want a piece of rope to learn my knots 
on, and a pocket-ax, and a whetstone, and 
a scout book, and a roll of film, besides — ” 

“Well, fellows, how are they treating 
you? Got those beds made and your duds 
changed?” The flaps lifted, and in came 
Cooper. “I thought perhaps you were a 
little bashful, and I had better come and 
show you around a bit before supper. 
You see it ’s like this, — I ’m out here 
for my health — ” and he laughed good- 
naturedly as he doubled up his great 
brawny arms. “I was going to have a 
little row before supper, just as an appe- 
tizer, you know, and I thought you boys 
might like to go along. How about it?” 

In another moment they were all seated 
in one of the trim little steel boats and 
were pulling away from shore. The Twins 
sat side by side in the stern seat, and 
Cooper pulled. My! they never knew a 

23 


I'HE THREE RIVERS KIDS 

row-boat could go so fast or so easily be- 
fore. 

The lake was placid. Not even a ripple 
stirred it as far out as the island. The 
sun was fast setting behind Mr. George’s 
windmill, and the first evening breezes 
were just beginning to chase the little 
waves through the channel where Little 
Corey runs into the big lake. 

After they had paddled around the 
island, up past Bass Point and back, they 
landed just as assembly was sounded from 
the hill. The boys knew without being 
told that it meant supper, although they 
had not yet learned the bugle-calls. 

''My stomach feels like the Gulf of Mex- 
ico,” confided Vincent, as they stepped on 
to the pier. 

"I have n’t been so hungry since dinner 
time,” chimed in Harold, and the three of 
them set off for the lodge at a good pace. 


24 


CHAPTER II 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS MAKE 
FRIENDS 

A S they climbed the hill together, 
Cooper between the Twins, it made 
a ludicrous picture, which caused 
no end of merriment among the fellows. 
A giant and two pigmies! 

‘‘We have enough little shrimps here 
now,’’ grumbled Dale Worth to the others, 
“without adding those two more. First 
thing you know we ’ll be playing ‘Drop 
the handkerchief’ after supper instead of 
baseball.” 

“And-a then we ’ll be having lessons in 
wading instead of swimming,” added Bill 
Rutherford. 

“Do n’t you worry,” suggested “Love” 
Collins, who was himself a mere pigmy. 
“Those kids are swell. They know how 
to mind their own affairs, and that ’s more 
than some fellows I know can do.” Then 
25 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


he giggled and ducked out of the way, for 
Collins rarely makes such an extended 
speech as that, and he was surprised at 
himself. 

Gathered about the flag-pole, just in 
front of the lodge, loitered a group of the 
leaders chatting together. There were 
Mr. Verne, the dean of the Camp Univer- 
sity; Mr. Blaine, the physical director, and 
Jimmie Vanden, who looked after Tent 
Two. Then there was ''DeaU’ — ^just plain 
^‘DeaU’ — for he had no other name, so far 
as the campers were concerned. He was 
right-hand man to the ''chief’ and helped 
to care for the office. 

Mr. Cooper introduced the Twins and 
went with them to have their dishes as- 
signed. The line of hungry young sav- 
ages was forming for the evening meal, 
and already the great airy dining-room 
was filled with fragrant odors. 

Each boy had a hook on the wall, and 
here hung his bag of dishes. On the end 
of the long table was a pile of metal trays, 
and Vincent noticed that as a fellow got 
his dishes out he passed the table, took 
26 


THE KIDS MAKE FRIENDS 


a tray, and then stepped into line, at at- 
tention. He lingered to wait for Mr. 
Cooper and was utterly unconscious that 
he was at that moment the center of at- 
traction. All eyes were fastened on him, 
and a hundred boys were forming opinions 
of their own. At last Cooper came, and 
Harold with him, and they fell into line. 
The “chief’ made several announcements, 
and Mr. Cooper offered thanks for the 
day’s pleasures, including the evening 
meal. Then the line passed the counter 
which connected the dining-room with the 
kitchen, and each boy was given his sup- 
per. He took his tray and chose the seat 
he wanted at the table. 

Some way, Harold did not know just 
how it happened, but Collins beat him to 
the seat next to Cooper on one side, and 
Vincent was already seated at his other 
side; so he slid in where best he could, and 
lost no time in beginning to eat. 

Vincent was listening to the happy chat- 
ter about him and studying the fellows 
near him. Some he liked, and others he 
was sure he did not like. Dale Worth kept 
27 


THE three rivers KIDS 


looking at him with disdainful eyes, and 
spent the entire supper hour expressing 
himself about having '‘so many young kids 
around/' Some one passed Vincent a 
note, and as he read it his face colored 
and his fist clenched. It informed him 
that he had stolen "Shrimp" Warren's 
seat by Mr. Cooper, and warned him not 
to repeat the offense under dire threats. 
He crumpled the note into a tiny wad and 
tossed it contemptuously to the floor. 
Then he turned and asked Mr. Cooper who 
"Shrimp" Warren was, with the result 
that "Shrimp" was called over and intro- 
duced, much to his own discomfort. 

"Sorry I took your seat, 'Shrimp,' " be- 
gan Vincent. "I 'll change with you." 
"Shrimp" was ashamed, and declined the 
offer. He suddenly decided that he liked 
Vincent, and later in the evening, when 
Dale suggested that they send Vincent 
over to Mr. George's for a "milk-pump" to 
skim the milk, "Shrimp" promptly put his 
foot down on any such doings, much to 
the surprise of his companions. 

Harold sat by Bill Ruthford, and Bill 
28 


THE KIDS MAKE FRIENDS 


kept him busy answering questions. Har- 
old could not determine whether Bill was 
making a fool of him or not, but was as 
civil as he could be. Bill was good-na- 
tured, and that gave him the benefit of the 
doubt. 

‘‘And-a, say, 'Three Creeks,’ ” com- 
menced Bill; but he got no further. 

"It is n’t Three Creeks,” corrected Har- 
old. 

"And-a, what is it, then?” questioned 
Bill. 

"It’s Three Rivers; named so because 
three rivers join there — the Portage, the 
Rocky, and the St. Joe.” 

"And-a, then, 'Portage,’ is it true that 
you and your brother drowned a mule 
last summer at Clinger Lake because it 
wouldn’t drink?” 

"Who told you that?” demanded Har- 
old. 

"And-a, was it you or your brother 
'Rocky’ that got caught in the chimney 
playing Santa Claus, and had to be fished 
out by a chimney-sweep?” 

Harold hardly knew whether to be an- 
29 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


gry or not. Several fellows had crowded 
around now to see the fun, but Harold 
kept his head. 

“And-a, say, Tortage,' was it you that 
set that barn on fire at Three Rivers last 
Fourth of July?’’ 

Vincent had finished his supper and 
joined the crowd, urging Harold to come 
on and wash his dishes, for it was cus- 
tomary in this camp for every fellow to 
wash his own dishes; and woe to the boy 
who did not do it thoroughly! For at the 
next meal the cook would refuse to feed 
him. 

''Say, kids,” said Dale, addressing the 
group, "what do you say? Do n’t the new 
fellows always wash our dishes the first 
day, so they can get into practice?” The 
Twins knew this was a testing time, and 
they must act discreetly. 

"Bet they do,” called out Bill. 

"Every time,” added Porter. 

"Slim did mine for a week when he 
came,” softly chuckled Durbin to his near- 
est neighbor. 

"Say, you. Dale!” called Vincent. "I dl 

30 


THE KIDS MAKE FRIENDS 


tell you what I ’ll do with you. We ’ll 
toss. Are you game? Heads I win, tails 
you lose. Come on, are you ready?” 

‘‘Be game,” shouted the crowd to Dale, 
glad to see the bully have his bluff called. 

The coin was tossed and, much to the 
delight of the crowd, Dale was elected to 
do the dishes. 

“Say, Worth,” laughed Vincent, “you 
know I was tossing for the Twins,” and 
he handed over both sets of dishes. Dale 
sulked, and objected “to being anybody’s 
slave,” but the crowd insisted in such a 
loud voice that he started for the dish- 
bench with all three sets of dishes amid a 
shower of suggestions on washing dishes 
for a family. 

Dale was angr}^, and as he worked away 
his face grew warm and flushed. A little 
mist passed before his eyes. “Caught by 
a little kid like that in his first attack.” It 
wounded his vanity sorely. As he finished 
his job he looked up sheepishly from the 
tub, and as no one was near, he openly 
swore vengeance on the Twins. 

“Beats the Dutch,” he muttered, “how 

31 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


them little snipes got so popular in a few 
moments, and I Ve been here a week al- 
ready. I dl bet I dl do a stunt or two yet. 
You watch me.^’ And he laughed to him- 
self. 

The fellows were already congregated 
on the ball diamond, and half a dozen base- 
balls were flying from player to player in 
practice. Each camper belonged to a ball 
team, and every evening after supper a 
game was played. Each week new teams 
were chosen, so that every boy — good, 
bad, and indifferent — had a chance to 
show just what he could do. 

“Deak’’ was the famous pitcher with 
the glass arm, and Bill Ruthford was the 
splendid third-baseman. Mr. Verne, be- 
cause of his excessive ‘^altitude’’ and his 
extreme caution, was the prize man on 
first. Dale played short, and when he was 
not playing to the grandstand, could do 
himself credit. ''Shrimp’’ Warren had al- 
ready won favors as a catcher, while Dur- 
bin, Studley, Longley, Porter, and the rest 
were pretty much all-round men. Johnnie 
Johnson was the midget "ump,” and, al- 

32 


THE KIDS MAKE FRIENDS 


though he sometimes stuttered in his de- 
cisions, his wealth of timely wit usually 
saved him a broken crown. The grand 
stand, a low hill running along the field, 
was always crowded with '‘boosters,’’ 
“crabbers,” and the stolidly indifferent. 
There were at least a dozen official score 
keepers, and “subs” without number. 

The game began, and gradually im- 
proved, till it might have been recognized 
as a game of the National sport by at least 
the liberal-minded. 

The Twins, although they had had sev- 
eral offers to play, chose to sit in the 
bleachers and size up the situation. They 
had both played ball ever since they were 
big enough to walk, and prided themselves 
on the fact that they knew a good player 
when they saw one. They were truly 
American boys, and therefore knew the 
batting average, strong and weak points 
of every American player of any conse- 
quence, which information they were not 
slow to disclose. 

“Hey, you. Dale !” shouted Harold, after 
watching W orth make a dozen errors. 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


‘'you need a sheet of fly-paper on your 
mitt/' 

“A bushel basket with handles on it," 
corrected Vincent. Then turning to the 
fellows, “Let 's build Worth a high board 
fence and give him a policeman to help 
him run in some of those balls." Dale 
grew furious and began hurling back 
threats, but was finally checked by the 
“ump," who threatened to “out" him if 
he did n't keep his “jaw closed." 

The Twins had the crowd with them, 
and they knew it. So the friendly jibes 
went on, until suddenly Dale jerked off his 
glove, threw it on the ground, and re- 
torted: 

“If either of you little snipes can do bet- 
ter, prove it." 

In an instant Vincent called his bluff. 
Off came cap and sweater, and the game 
went on. Dale sulkily left the field. Har- 
old coached his brother from the side- 
lines, and together they played the posi- 
tion as it had not been played since camp 
opened. 

It was the sixth inning, and they never 

34 


THE KIDS MAKE FRIENDS 


played but seven. The big red sun had 
dropped out of sight, and the advance 
guard of mosquitoes were just beginning 
to arrive. In another ten minutes it would 
be dusk. The score was eight to seven, 
in the Twin's favor, and there were three 
men on bases, with two outs. Durbin was 
at bat. He stepped up to the plate, sur- 
veyed the field and the surrounding coun- 
try. He was considered the camp weather 
prophet. 

‘AVhat are the signs?" teased ''Love" 
Collins, taking in the situation. 

" 'Red at night, campers' delight,' " 
quoted Durbin. "It 's a great night for 
flies." He swung the bat, caught the swift 
ball on its tip, and sent it straight into the 
sky. 

"Fair ball!" called the "ump." Durbin 
raced for first at breakneck speed. Studley 
made a fly for second, and Bill fairly 
jumped home. The fans in the bleachers 
rose and shouted all the advice known to 
the game. Vincent heard nothing, saw 
nothing but the rapidly falling ball. Could 
he get under it? Would he muff it if he 
35 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


did get under it? It seemed to him it took 
a long time for it to drop, but the next 
instant it was in his hands. He squeezed 
it like grim death. Then he heard the 
wild yelling. 

''Three outs!’’ called Johnnie, and the 
game was over, for darkness had begun to 
settle. But the Twins had won their way 
into the heart of every boy in camp. 

"And-a, are you a Phoebe bird, 
'Rocky?’ ” questioned Bill, as they left the 
field. "I ’m sure you must be some kind 
of a fly-catcher, anyway.” Then turning 
to the "Dean,” he questioned, " 'Dean,’ 
have you seen the new bird? He’s a 
Three Rivers fly-catcher.” 


36 


CHAPTER III 


THE TWINS PROVE TOO MUCH 
FOR THE CROWD 

T he nightly camp-fire was one of the 
most attractive events of all the 
camp-life. There had already de- 
veloped a great deal of rivalry between the 
tents, as to which one could build the best 
fire, until it had become a fine art. One 
night it would be built in the woods, an- 
other night upon the sandy beach, and 
perhaps the next over by the cat-tail 
swamp on Little Corey. But wherever it 
was, it always held its hour of enchant- 
ment and good fellowship, for no camper 
was ever too tired, no matter what the ac- 
tivities of the day, to enter heartily into 
every yell and song and stunt. 

When the fire would roar and crackle, 
the fellows would dance about it and yell 
like wild Indians on the war-path, then 
37 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 

add log after log to the blaze until the 
supply was exhausted. But when the 
flames had died away, and nothing re- 
mained but the brightly glowing embers, 
with here and there the charred end of a 
stick that had escaped the flames, then the 
fellows would crowd together in a closer 
group, often slipping their arms around 
one another's shoulders, or lounging back 
into the laps of their favorites. It was 
then that a great hush would settle over 
all. In chariots of light drawn by tiny 
spark-steeds or in swiftly curling wreaths 
of smoke their thoughts were carried off 
into strange riots of fancy. Every burn- 
ing stump and dying ember became alive 
with sprightly imps and fairies and gob- 
lins. 

It was at such times that hearts were 
warmed with fellowship, and that a real 
spirit of comradeship was brought out. 
Was it any wonder that at such times, in 
such environment, the wee small voice of 
the Great Creator should be heard by 
many a boy in a new and fascinating man- 
ner? 


38 


was at such times that hearts were warmed with fellowship. 




* 1 ' V 




■■ .T?r 

-T'Vi '--••■ vS ■ 4 




■ 


U"*'. 

r * ^ f 'H * 

*s . 

f..A . i. - . tJ 


• * ‘ i 

'^ • y r • ivl '.• 




/ ^ 


ii * i M T i' 

■:*■ .■' • •.*V 


^ . 


1 s\ 


0 ^ 



[ • -»*• 
'ft «l 


w , .ftjj 'f' ^■''»^t 

E' » ■ ■ ■' ’• *! * "'5 


■ , .V -MV ; . ' 

!wCl ■•'. •■ J, f ■*•■ . ■ .l*’t - 



* V 





**« / 1 


V 




V. % ^ 


J ' Vi ^ 


- MV 











1 * ^ * 
-if ''< 4 ^.r'- 




-p 


f j 

A"^ , 'V"^* ■'. '-•• 

'VI ,‘,- z 

lC‘- i 




o 



TWINS TOO MUCH FOR CROWD 


‘'Gee, isn’t that scrumptious?” whis- 
pered Vincent as he sidled up to Cooper. 

“That ’s a bum fire,” growled Dale. 
“It ’s nothing but a lot of brush. Wait till 
we get a crack at it.” 

“And-a then we ’ll show you fellows 
what a fire is,” chimed in Bill, good-na- 
turedly. “That one looks like a box of 
toothpicks.” 

The songs had begun, then followed the 
yells, more songs ; then, after half an hour 
of spontaneous fun, the “chief” raised his 
hands for quiet. This was the time when 
all the important announcements were 
made for the morrow, as well as many sug- 
gestions relating to conduct and general 
camp spirit. The group had just settled 
into quiet, and the “chief” had begun to 
speak, when “Love” called out in tones of 
great excitement: 

“O, gee, but that was a big bug! It 
just crawled up that tree. I bet it was 
three inches long. Belonged to the order 
of Lepidropta, too.” 

“The order of what?” questioned Har- 
old. 


39 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


‘'Well, that’s what Mr. Verne taught 
us in nature study A’^esterday, anyway, or- 
der of Lepidropta.” 

"No, no,” corrected the "dean.” "Lepi- 
doptera are butterflies. That was Cole- 
optera, order of beetles. It must have 
been one of those long-horned borers. 
They hatch from these large white grubs 
you find in rotting stumps.” 

"There are never any long-horned bor- 
ers in my grub ever,” suggested "Shrimp,” 
as he jerked his arms up to protect himself 
from the shower of punches and pokes 
that always followed a poor pun. 

Again quiet reigned, and the "chief” 
began a second time: 

"Every man in this crowd wants to be 
sure to win at least his Brown Rag this 
year. Every fellow that is going to try 
say 'Aye.’ ” There was a deafening yell. 
"Very well; that’s good. I am glad you 
have so much enthusiasm about it, too, fel- 
lows, for it is just like this, — if we are 
going to have the privilege of spending a 
few weeks together out here in this great 
out-of-doors, let us make it pay us back 
40 


TWINS TOO MUCH FOR CROWD 


something in all-round development. Let 
us not be satisfied with just having fun 
and being well fed, but let us grow. Let 
us develop and round out our lives. Every 
bit of nature study is worth while. Every 
bit of athletic activity is an asset if it is 
used rightly, and it is about the greatest 
thing in all the world for a fellow to be 
able to find real fun in just helping the 
other fellow. It is one of the traditions 
of this camp, fellows, that every boy while 
here shall learn something of the joy of 
unselfish service. Why, just look at those 
second degree tests. Any live fellow can 
pass eight of these twelve without so very 
much effort. Let me read them to you : 

To catch a one-pound fish. 

To be able to demonstrate simple First- 
Aid measures prescribed by the Camp 
Physical Director. 

To row a boat (passing the rowing test). 
To be able to swim 50 yards. 

To be able to walk one mile in ii minutes. 
To be able to run 100 3^ards in 14 seconds. 
To be able to start three consecutive fires 
with three consecutive matches in the 
woods, with fuel found in the woods; 

41 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


one of the fires to be built in a damp 
place. If one fire fails, the entire test 
must be repeated. 

To identify five different butterflies and 
tell something interesting about each. 
To identify five different moths and tell 
something interesting about each. 

To identify five different insects, not but- 
terflies or moths, and tell something in- 
teresting about each. 

To collect and press 25 different wild flow- 
ers and name them. 

To jump 6 feet in standing broad-jump.’' 

'‘What are the first degree tests?” asked 
both the Twins in the same breath. 

"O, yes,” replied the "chief.” "I for- 
got you fellows were new arrivals. You 
see, it is this way. Just being a member 
of the camp for one week is the first de- 
gree, and carries with it the right to wear 
the camp emblem. Then these tests I 
have just read are the requirements for 
the second degree and form a good foun- 
dation for the next degree, which gives 
you the Brown Rag. 

"I confess the third and fourth degrees 
are a little more strenuous "than the sec- 
42 


TWINS TOO MUCH FOR CROWD 


ond, but that is what makes us grow; go- 
ing after something that is a little harder 
and just a little bigger than we are. Why, 
you know the whole joy of fishing is to 
be always fishing for a fish just a little 
larger than the largest one we ever 
caught.” 

'‘Read the third and fourth degree 
tests, too,” shouted half a dozen. 

“Number one: 

To be able to start a fire with a fire-drill, 
the fuel and material used to be found 
in the woods.” 

“I Ve been in lots of fire-drills at 
school,” suggested the official umpire. 

“Duck him!” shouted Durbin. 

“Into the drink!” came shouts from 
every direction, but before they could get 
to their feet Johnnie had disappeared into 
the darkness. 

The “chief” continued: 

“To be able to start a fire with a fire-drill, 
the fuel and material used to be found 
in the woods. 


43 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


To be able to tell the correct time by the 
sun at least twice a day. Sun-time. 

To be able to swim 200 yards. 

To be able to row a boat one mile in ii 
minutes. 

To measure the correct height of a tree 
without climbing it. 

To be able to tie and untie eight different 
standard knots, and name them. 

To catch a two-pound fish. 

To be able to know and name fifteen dif- 
ferent trees in the woods, and give one 
distinctive feature of each. 

To be able to perform on a stunt-night ac- 
ceptably to the Rag Societies. 

To be able to know and name twenty-five 
different birds as seen around the 
camp, and give one distinguishing fea- 
ture of each. 

To lead in the Evening Devotions satis- 
factorily at least once. 

To run 100 yards in thirteen seconds.'’ 

‘'Now for the fourth degree: 

“To catch a three-pound fish. 

To be able to run 100 yards in eieven sec- 
onds. 

To conduct in satisfactory manner Morn- 
ing Bible Study. 


44 


TWINS TOO MUCH FOR CROWD 


To be a camp leader one full week. 

To teach one boy how to swim (test, lOO 
feet). 

To influence one boy into the Christian 
life. 

To know and to name 25 different trees 
as found in the woods, and give a dis- 
tinguishing characteristic of each. 

To be able to make twelve standard knots 
in a rope, and name them. 

To conquer one bad habit at camp.'’ 

‘^Now, fellows, just one more word," 
said the ‘"chief," patiently. “Mr. Blaine 
and Mr. Cooper will help any fellow who 
desires it, with the physical tests. The 
‘dean’ will give you all the help you want 
in identifying your twenty-five trees or 
birds or flowers, and I will help anywhere 
I can. Now let us get busy." 

Mr. Cooper jumped to his feet, and the 
noisy chatter that had begun on all sides 
as the “chief" finished speaking ceased in- 
stantly, for when Mr. Cooper spoke, every- 
body listened. 

“Boys, I ’m going to be the first fellow 
in this camp to win a Brown Rag for this 


45 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


season. I am going after it hard for three 
reasons: 

''First, because I believe it is the big- 
gest thing I can do while here; and sec- 
ond, because I am absolutely ignorant 
about all this great out-of-doors. I want 
to know every tree and every flower and 
every bird in sight. I want to know how 
to build fires and cook in the woods In- 
dian fashion. And I want to be able to 
do everything well that is worth doing at 
all out here in this camp. But most of all, 
I am going after that Rag because I want 
to help the other fellow, and those tests 
are going to teach me how.^’ 

When he sat down there was a roar of 
approval, and "Three cheers for Cooper,’’ 
and "Me, too; me for a Brown Rag.” 
Then, finally, the good old camp-yell, with 
Durbin leading: 

“EBERHART 

EBERHART! 

EBERHART ! 

That 's what they all say ! 

What do they all say ? 

Eberhart !” 

46 


TWINS TOO MUCH FOR CROWD 


There could be no doubt as to the pur- 
pose of the crowd after that, for if Cooper 
thought it was the thing to do, there 
would be no further question. They 
would all try for a Rag. 

Mr. Blaine then offered a few sugges- 
tions concerning the swimming and ath- 
letics, and Mr. Verne briefly outlined the 
nature study work. 

‘Tn the library of the lodge, fellows, we 
have on the walls a colored plate of every 
tree, flower, bird, insect, and animal com- 
mon to this region. Just as fast as the liv- 
ing specimens are actually seen by any one 
of you, we will mark the colored plate. 
Keep your eyes and ears open, and do n’t 
forget to report what you see.” 

‘‘ ‘Dean,’ I smell a skunk. Can you 
count that?” shouted Johnnie. 

‘T saw the king of the order of beetles, 
did n’t I ?” giggled “Love.” 

“And-a, Mr. Verne,” called Bill Ruth- 
ford, “are bullfrogs the husbands of cow- 
frogs? I’ve seen them already.” 

“I should think you ’d call those long, 

47 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


slender cat-tails polecats, Mr. Verne,'’ 
shouted ''Shrimp." 

Vincent and Harold were busy making 
appointments with Mr. Cooper to run 
their one-hundred-yard dash and to pass 
their boat test, for no boy was allowed out 
in a boat alone who had not passed the 
rowing test. 

"I do n't know a cowslip from a Canada 
thistle," complained Dale. "How do you 
expect me to find twenty-five wild flowers? 
I could n't do it if I had all summer." 

"O, fiddle," replied Harold. "I 'll teach 
you some. I do n't know so very many 
myself, but I bet I can find twenty-five. 
Use your head, boy. There are three 
kinds of clover, three kinds of daisies, two 
different water-lilies, and lots of others. 
I 'll show you to-morrow." 

"O, that 's too much like work, go 
chasing around all day for a little bunch of 
wild flowers," continued Dale. Then a 
happy thought struck him, and he beck- 
oned Harold to him again and whispered : 

"Say, kid, let 's work a stunt. I 'll get 
what ones I can find around here, and I 'll 

48 


Twins too much for crowd 


give you two cents each for all I need to 
make up my twenty-five. That will be 
easy money. I can jump my six feet and 
start my fires all right, and I can bluff 
through those First Aid stunts easy 
enough. What do you say? Will you 
do it?” 

Harold had drawn himself up to his full 
height, and a scornful look came into his 
clean-cut, manly face. He made no reply 
for a few seconds, then: ‘‘You go jump in 
the lake.” He fairly hurled the words at 
Dale. Then he went back to the fire and 
sat down by “Love” Collins. “Love” was 
scribbling down the names of the birds he 
had seen that day. He had thirteen, and 
together they decided to find the rest on 
the morrow. 

The fire had burned low now, and it was 
nearly time for taps. Mr. Blaine led the 
brief Evening Devotion, bringing home a 
simple, helpful thought; then thanked the 
Great Father for the happy day with all 
its experiences; and then off to camp. 

As they strolled carelessly down the 
beach in a dozen little groups toward the 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


tents, Harold felt some one nudge him in 
the back, and turning, he saw “Love'' and 
“Shrimp" beckoning him. When they 
had slipped off in the darkness, “Love" 
began the conversation in a mysterious 
whisper: 

“You kids want to keep your eye peeled 
to-night, 'cause Dale is trying to fix up a 
game on you. You better leave off your 
pajamas for awhile after you go to 
bed." 

“Duck us? Dale duck us?" cried Har- 
old. He was just about to tell of Dale's 
suggestion concerning the flowers, but 
checked himself. What was the use? 

“Now, do n't make any fuss about it," 
cautioned “Shrimp," “ 'cause everybody 
likes to help initiate the new fellows. 
Take your medicine and be game, only 
pull Dale in with 3^ou." 

“There 's lots of funny things happens 
nights," chuckled “Love." “Bill Ruthford 
would rather see a kid pulled out of bed 
and ducked in the drink than go to a three- 
ringed circus any day." 

Lanterns were soon lighted, and there 

50 


TWINS TOO MUCH FOR CROWD 


was a general disrobing. Before long 
every fellow was comfortably stretched 
out in his roomy bunk, while here and 
there a leader could be heard giving or- 
ders to be quiet while one by one the lights 
went out. As always happens, each tent 
possessed at least one humorist, who 
found it very difficult to sleep as long as 
a single funny saying remained unsaid. 
So for the next few moments there was 
much whispering, with every now and 
then a suppressed giggle. Mr. Verne, who 
was night captain of the tent street, came 
along, lantern in hand, to make his last in- 
spection before retiring. 

“Hi, Diogenes ! Hunting for an honest 
man?’’ came from one tent. 

“Gee, take a peep at the size of that fire- 
fly,” from another. 

“Jigger the Mean,’ ” came from a third, 
and so on down the entire street. 

At exactly nine o’clock the stillness of 
the night air and the monotonous buzz of 
hungry mosquitoes were broken by the 
clear, round notes of the bugle. The re- 
maining lights were put out, and quiet 

51 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


reigned, for Taps had been sounded. The 
days were so full of activity that when 
night came there was not much difficulty 
in securing quiet. Of course there were 
occasions, such as when a friendly skunk 
came to visit, or when the pigs got out of 
the farmyard and held a grunting practice 
down by the locker house, or when ''Red’' 
Goodwin told long, incoherent stories in 
his sleep — when sleep and quiet were tem- 
porarily banished. 

The Twins, fortunately, had arranged 
their bunks so that their heads were to- 
gether. They had laid their plans very 
carefully, and were sure, in case of trouble, 
that they would be able to take care of 
themselves. They lay in their beds, wide 
awake, suppressing their excitement as 
best they could, their eyes and ears strain- 
ing out into the darkness to catch the first 
glimpse of a ghastly shadow or the first 
sound of approaching footsteps. 

It seemed that they had waited an hour 
at least, when suddenly there was the 
faintest whisper just outside the tent. 
Then there was a suppressed giggle. 

52 


twins too much for crowd 


They were really coming, then! Vincent 
could hardly keep quiet. 

‘'And-a I ’ll catch Tortage,’ ” Bill Ruth- 
ford was saying, between chattering teeth. 

‘'You go in at the other end,” they 
heard Dale say to some one who moved 
between the tents toward the back open- 
ing. 

“They won’t be suspecting,” reassured 
Bill. “There has n’t been a soul leave — ” 
The Twins could n’t quite catch the rest. 
They heard Mr. Verne’s heavy breathing 
above them, and Stellner’s gentle snore in 
the other upper. 

From somewhere up the tent street 
there came three quick, short, whistled 
notes. The Twins knew their time had 
come. Like a flash they rolled out of bed 
and under the bunks, Vincent bumping 
his head an awful crack on one of the bed 
uprights. When they were safely under- 
neath, Harold reached up and gave Vin- 
cent’s arm a squeeze that told volumes. 

The tent flaps lifted slowly, and in came 
the gang, as noiselessly as a troup of 
ghosts. They carefully raised the mos- 
53 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


quite netting on the Twins’ beds. There 
was a surprised exclamation, ‘‘They ’re 
gone !” 

‘"Gone?” questioned the others, in 
amazement. ''Gone where?” 

The excited whispers were interrupted 
by wild shouts of "Help !” from Tent Four. 
The Twins fairly hugged themselves in 
their delight. Leonard was on his wa}^ to 
the lake in the hands of a desperate gang 
of outlaws, and they were safe. There 
was a splash, an awful yell, and several 
merry laughs; then pajama forms scurried 
in every direction, and by the time the 
"dean” got his lantern lighted, and got to 
the scene of action, the fun was all over. 

The Twins took advantage of his ab- 
sence and slid back into bed and held a 
very hurried little council of war before 
going to sleep. Dale Worth and Bill 
Ruthford were slated from that time forth 
for a series of mysterious punishments. 

.The moon came slowly up out of Kaiser 
Lake, and the rippling water danced in 
the moonlight, while Camp Eberhart was 
lost in a calm, sweet sleep. 

54 


CHAPTER IV 


IN WHICH DALE WORTH MAKES 
A MISTAKE 

T he great yellow moon of the night 
before had turned ghastly pale, and 
in its place rose the morning sun. 
It was a glorious June day, and already 
several boats had put out from camp to 
do a little before-breakfast bass-fishing. 

Vincent awoke with a start and sat up. 
He had been dreaming of evading a gang 
of rowdies, of whom Dale Worth was 
leader. Surely he had heard Dale's voice 
outside. He rubbed his eyes and listened. 

‘^Thunderation! Why do they have to 
lock all the boats at night? Nobody 's go- 
ing to steal them," complained Dale, as he 
passed Tent One accompanied by Durbin. 
They stopped a moment at the pump to 
drink, then went to the boats. 

‘Wou get me a pair of oars," suggested 
Dale. 

‘^Not on your life, boy. I 'm not your 

55 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


servant,” replied Durbin. ‘‘Get your own 
oars, like all the rest of us do. You ’re 
able-bodied, are n’t you ?” 

Dale placed his rod and bait in a 
boat and sullenly started back toward 
the locker house with Durbin. Vincent 
watched them disappear inside. Like a 
flash he rolled out of bed and fairly flew 
to Dale’s boat, snatched up the can of 
worms, and was back again in a second. 
He was sure they had not seen him. 

Meanwhile Bill Ruthford and Studley 
came down the tent street and joined the 
others at the locker house. 

“What’s the weather signs, Durbin?” 
asked Studley. Durbin laughed, surveyed 
the lake and the sky, then replied with a 
good-natured chuckle: 

“ ‘Love’ saw the whole order of beetles 
last night as we sat by the fire, and the 
old saying goes: 

‘ When at night the beetles play, 

To-morrow will be a glorious day.* ’* 

They all moved toward the boats, laugh- 
ing and joking, and in another instant 

56 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


they were paddling away to the fishing 
grounds of their choice. 

Vincent laughed to himself. ‘T ’ll bet 
the fish are biting great this morning, too. 
Hard luck. Dale, old scout. You ’ll have 
to come back without even a nibble.” 
With that he stepped noiselessly out of the 
rear of the tent and set the can of worms 
on the steps of the locker-house, then 
slipped back to bed. Dale was heading 
straight across the lake, and V'incent knew 
it would be some time before he discovered 
that he had no bait. 

He had nearly dozed back to sleep again 
when he heard a boat bump unceremoni- 
ously into the pier. He looked out and 
saw Dale throw his oars disgustedly on 
to the sand, then climb out of his boat. 
Vincent lay down again and pretended he 
was asleep. It was well he did, for Dale 
came straight to Tent One and cautiously 
looked around under the bunks. After 
satisfying himself that the bait was not 
there, he turned and went to his own tent, 
and Vincent saw no more of him till break- 
fast time. 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Reveille broke on the morning air, and 
in a moment the beach was fairly swarm- 
ing with naked figures of every size and 
build; some as brown as berries, some all 
tender with sunburned arms and shoul- 
ders, and some still white. When the ^‘All 
In’" signal came there was a joyous shout, 
a splash, and every figure disappeared in 
the water, only to appear again sputtering 
and spitting, with teeth a-chatter. Next 
came a hasty rub-down; then they dressed. 
Here and there a lazy fellow peeped out 
from under his covers and, with yawns 
and stretches, inquired the time of day. 

All of the wash basins near the pump 
were being pressed into service, while here 
and there a fellow could be seen peering 
into a small mirror, fastened up on a tree, 
and combing a woolly head. The Twins 
had discarded their shoes and stockings, 
so were about the first campers to be 
dressed. They sat down to watch the 
others make their hasty toilets. 

‘'You kids kind of gave them the slip 
last night, did n’t you?” laughed Studley, 
to which the Twins just smiled. 

58 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


''Gee, your brother was scared to death,’’ 
broke in Jimmie Vanden. 

"What was all that rumpus about last 
night, an3^way ?” asked the "dean” in mock 
anger. "You kids would n’t let a fellow 
get a decent sleep on a bet, would you? 
You better not let the 'chief catch you 
at any such tom-foolery, or he ’ll have you 
on the carpet.” 

Just then "Love” arrived with a gor- 
geous moth held firmly between his fin- 
gers. 

"Mr. Verne, what order does this belong 
to? I’m so mixed about bugs and things 
that I ’m out of order myself.” Then he 
giggled and looked around at the crowd. 
The "dean” was just beginning a very 
learned and scientific discourse on the sub- 
ject of moths when the last bell rang and 
there was a wild scamper up the hill, for 
if any boy was late in the line-up for colors 
or late to any meal, he lost his meal, and 
that was a very serious thing for any live 
and active boy. 

On top of the hill, just in front of the 
lodge, the line was forming. Porter and 
59 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 

Longley already had the big flag snapped 
to the halyards, and '‘Shrimp’' Warren, 
who was the official bugler, was awaiting 
the flying of the colors before blowing his 
bugle. Mr. Blaine was officer of the day 
and gave the commands. The long line 
straightened, came to attention, then all 
together gave the salute. In clear, cheery 
tones it rang out. 

'T give my head, my hand, and my heart 
to my country. One God, one Nation, one 
Flag.” The banner was pulled up the pole 
and spread itself to the morning breeze. 

Breakfast was just like the other camp 
meals, a joyous time of chatter and fun. 
The Twins found their popularity grow- 
ing, much to the disgust of Dale, who took 
a long time telling Bill what he thought 
of fellows "that would sneak out of a little 
midnight joy.” Vincent waited for him to 
say something about the missing bait-can, 
but of that he said never a word. 

The brief morning devotion was held 
out on the hillside, under the giant oaks, 
and was the real beginning of activities for 
the day. Just following it came the period 
6o 


give my head, my hand, and my heart to my country. One God, one 
Nation, one Flag.'' 






.‘r 


1 i 


. ra 


h; 




" ^r» i*A- ^’Vw'bhiKi’* 

oJ**^ ■ ’ *, • • ^r9{:V’?r 

J v' s-V 

''Wr;: ' i :'l:» 

'a-®®-'" 

I r • • •• . ■* - *^“ ^ 

■, -..■^ ,- ■.. . c - '*■ ■' ■* ' 

-5 V « ’ 


■* 3 fe - j 

' *• ■ ■' ' 

%;• >. ,-if V'^T,:-;:^. 


i 





• HU 



i'iiQ 


82*4' ■'" , / * ' '-'*•* ,.'f^*' .§ 

iA t I *4 -- 1 ^.- ' ^ * X * * " 

• ■ ' •?■ * ' . ' "‘r 'i'VV- " 'i 


[‘Mi 




JS' * ^ * 


V 


» . 




■v- 


. " ■ . • ■' ■ ._ 4 .-, i»-' >.v 


* '¥^ I ■" V 

K * '* * ' 4** 


" ^3^1! 

,j.-'. - i;.'^ ‘ -j , ■ ' '‘•*,^ ^ v 3 

-y:-. -ri^^ ^ .^3 


1 

_r . 1 ^. w 

'Ti 

. W!^l 


^ ^ \4 






!•' >3 / -■?- . ^iJ***; -' 4 W] - , ViiJn m 

. E.'^.i. ,:• V •- ^ ’:• '<t‘V ' iyieJr®, r't 

1 1 ^.%- 1 '-. 


> » 



DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


when the camp work was detailed to the 
different tents to be done. Every camper 
knew that he would have some simple task 
to do every day, and was always eager to 
learn what it was to be. This work, under 
the direction of the leaders, was pleasant 
and much enjoyed as a usual thing. 
Occasionally some boy who happened to 
be a little out of sorts would slight his 
duty; then the Camp Council, that power- 
fully efficient body elected by the campers 
for the campers, always found the culprit 
and meted out to him a fair and honest 
punishment. The government was excel- 
lent, for every councilman was liable to 
the council, and upon more than one oc- 
casion the campers’ power of recall had 
saved the day and given entire satisfaction 
to the majority. The “chief” always as- 
signed the detail of work and added brief 
comments by way of explanations. 

“Tent One will replenish the supply of 
fire-wood in the lodge and kitchen. Tent 
Two will build the evening camp-fire, not 
too big a one, fellows, but a substantial 
one. Tent Three will sweep the dining- 
61 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


room and porch. Tent Four will repair 
and line the baseball diamond. Tent Five 
will clean the boats. Tent Six will send 
one man to each tent to help in their regu- 
lar detail. The remaining two boys of 
Tent Six empty the trash cans, and be sure 
to burn their contents. 

''Do nh forget the morning swim at 
eleven, and you boys that are being tu- 
tored, do n’t fail to meet Mr. Verne at the 
university at nine.” He pointed his finger 
down to the white tent pitched back in a 
quiet, secluded spot on the shore of Little 
Corey. 

The leader in Six detailed his men as 
ordered, and as luck would have it. Dale 
was sent to aid Tent One in getting in the 
wood. Mr. Verne was called to the office 
for something, and turned his command 
over to Vincent. Dale promptly refused 
positively and determinedly to take orders 
from "such a little snipe.” Instead of 
bringing in the smaller wood for the 
kitchen, as was necessary, he brought in 
an armful of great knotty chunks and 
tossed them carelessly behind the stove. 

62 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


The cook saw the spirit in which Dale was 
doing his duty, and, knowing it was con- 
trary to all good camp spirit, he took the 
matter into his own hands. 

''Now you jes look heah, sonnie. Do n’t 
you get too gay, or you an’ me ’s goin’ 
ter have a jamboree right off quick,” he 
said. 

"How many bosses has this gang got, 
anyway?” hotly replied Dale. 

"All it needs to make fresh young ’uns 
like you act proper,” came the prompt re- 
ply. There were one, two, three hurried 
steps, and the next instant a big black 
hand had Dale by the lobe of the ear and 
was leading him toward the stove. 

"Ise de boss in dis heah kitchen, an’ I 
ain’t got no mo’ use fo’ dem logs you jes’ 
fiahed behin’ de stove den you has.’* 

Dale was too astonished to resist. The 
cook continued: "Now youse gathah up 
dem logs an’ tote ’em out ’n heah ; does ye 
heah me? Den stay out ’n dis yeah 
kitchen yerself. Ah ain’t got no time to 
be foolin’ wid such a spoiled baby.” 

Dale’s face fairly flamed with embar- 

63 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


rassment. The other boys had heard. He 
hesitated, then did as he was told. When 
once he reached the open door he flung 
down the wood, picked up a shovel, and 
disappeared over the hill. The Twins 
without a word of complaint did Dale’s 
share of the work. As they left the 
kitchen they were talking earnestly to- 
gether. 

'‘Mind you, do n’t say a word about it 
to Mr. Verne,” said Harold. "It won’t 
do any good.” The cook heard, and 
laughed to himself. "Dem kids is some- 
thing like it,” he said. "Regular good 
sports, both of ’em.” 

A little later the "chief” came in, and 
the cook reported the whole incident just 
as it happened, praising the Twins to the 
sky for their real camp spirit. 

"Yes, they are a couple of the right sort 
of boys,” agreed the "chief.” "The differ- 
ence, you see, is in their bringing up. The 
Bottings came from a well-regulated home 
with all its advantages. There being the 
three of them, too, they have learned 
among themselves what unselfishness and 
64 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


loyalty is. But with poor Dale it is difler- 
ent. He is the only boy of a wealthy 
father, and his mother has been dead since 
he was a baby. He has always done just 
as he pleased, and now the unselfish camp 
spirit of ‘Other Fellow First’ is hard on 
him. Sometimes I think he is absolutely 
hopeless, and at other times I find a good 
streak in him. There is one thing certain, 
though, if this camp can’t find the good 
that is in Dale, nothing can; and here is 
hoping. I hate to be disappointed in a 
boy.” 

Dale had gone from his work to dig 
more bait, and was just returning. As he 
passed the open door he heard the last 
sentence of the “chief’s” remark, and won- 
dered who he meant. Some way he felt 
guilty; so, avoiding the “chief,” he got into 
a boat and paddled away alone. 

Eleven o’clock found the beach lined 
with campers in their bathing-suits, await- 
ing the “all in” signal. The Twins were 
sitting on the extreme end of the spring- 
board, dangling their feet in the water. 
They had not yet learned that it was a 

^ 65 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


serious offense to sit on the springboard, 
especially out past the spring. But they 
were to learn that shortly. 

Dale landed, and held up his string of 
fish. He had had good luck and was in 
high spirits. As he was placing his fish 
in a bucket he noticed the Twins on the 
springboard. He looked around, and see- 
ing some of his friends, he held a whis- 
pered conversation with them. They were 
to make a dash for the pier, grab the 
Twins, and toss them into the lake for 
sitting on the springboard — and for cheat- 
ing them of their fun the night before. 

‘'One, two, three!’’ called out Dale, as 
they swooped down on the Twins, who 
had hardly time to get to their feet before 
the gang was upon them. 

“Into the lake with the little snipes!” 
shouted Dale. “We’ll teach them to sit 
on the springboard.” 

The Twins took in the situation at a 
glance, and stood on guard. 

“Tackle low,” whispered Harold, as he 
flung himself at Dale’s legs. The attack- 
ing party had not expected any opposition. 

66 


dale worth makes mistake 


Before they knew it Dale and Harold were 
rolling on the pier. Dale was helpless, 
held by both legs. He struck madly, but 
Harold was too small and too quick for 
him. Suddenly Harold released his hold 
on Dale, and Dale slipped over the edge 
and into the water. A howl of laughter 
went up from the gathered crowd. The 
“All in’’ signal rang out above the tumult, 
and in another instant the Twins had 
dived from sight, coming up some little 
distance from the crowd. 

“That ’s one on you. Dale,” shouted 
“Shrimp” from the shore. 

“And-a are your clothes wet. Dale?” 
called Bill, who was just as pleased with 
the incident as if it had happened in the 
dead of night and under the most mysteri- 
ous circumstances. 

“And-a Dale is some duck,” he chuckled 
to the fellows. “Just look at his webbed 
feet.” 

Dale was seated on the pier, pulling off 
his water-soaked shoes and stockings. 

“Never you mind,” he threatened. “I ’m 
going to clean up on this whole blamed 
67 


.THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


place one of these days, then skip. You Te 
a regular bunch of yaps, all of you. You 
always get a fellow into a mess, then laugh 
at him. Bill Ruthford, you Te as double- 
faced as the town clock. I ’ll bet it was 
you that stole my bait this morning. I ’ll 
get you, you see.” 

The crowd howled with delight. ‘‘Hey, 
you fellows; let up!” called Mr. Cooper 
from the top of the chute-the-chutes. 
“Dale, go to your tent and change your 
wet clothes. What are you doing in the 
water with them on, anyway?” which was 
followed by a second spasm of laughter. 

That morning the Twins successfully 
passed the rowing test and swam their 
two hundred yards, and were happy with 
the prospect of winning their Brown 
Rags. 

“W e ’re going off into the woods this 
afternoon to try lighting our fires,” called 
“Love” just after dinner. “Come on and 
go along.” He began to make signs, first 
putting his fingers into his mouth, then 
rubbing his stomach with apparent satis- 
faction. 


68 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 

“What does he mean?^’ asked Vincent 
of Harold. 

“O, I know/' replied Harold. “He 
means they are going to find something 
to eat. Let 's go." So off they trotted to 
join the crowd. 

Some way supper did n't taste as good 
as usual that evening, at least to the 
Twins, for they had eaten no less than 
three pints apiece of big ripe dewberries. 

The ball game was slow that evening, 
for every one was tired. Even the camp- 
fire held nothing new, except that “Love" 
captured a rare imperial moth that was 
flitting about in the firelight and learned 
its order and scientific name, much to his 
satisfaction. 

The fellows were lined up ready for the 
evening dip. Mr. Cooper was not on hand, 
so Jimmie took command and gave the sig- 
nal. There was the usual splash and 
shout, then there was a patter of bare feet 
on the pier. A naked figure struck the 
end of the long springboard, rose in the 
air, and was gone. Some one had dived off 
the springboard into the deep water in the 

69 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


dark. Jimmie was frightened, and in an- 
other second he was at the end of the pier, 
looking out over the water. He saw noth- 
ing. Every swimmer seemed to be inside 
the rope where he belonged. Never had a 
day passed but the boys had been warned 
of the danger of just such a thing, and had 
been told time and again that the evening 
dip was a dip only, and not a swim. Jim- 
mie was so frightened that cold shivers 
ran up and down his naked back. He 
peered out into the darkness, then called 
with all his might for Mr. Cooper, who 
came running from his tent to see what 
was the matter. 

‘'Some one dived off the springboard 
into the deep water, and he did nff come 
up. What shall we do?’’ 

“He must have come up,” replied 
Cooper; but to think was to act with him. 
He put his hands to his mouth and called, 
“All out!” in a voice that was instantly 
obeyed. 

“Line up quick!” The boys obeyed like 
machinery, for they knew promptness was 
important just then. He hurried down the 
70 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


line, taking note of every fellow as he 
passed. He was so accustomed to keeping 
track of each boy while they were in swim- 
ming that he felt sure he would know who 
was missing. He came to the end. Every 
boy in camp was there. He was puzzled. 
Then his clear voice rang out: 

‘‘Who dived from that springboard just 
a moment ago and swam back to the rope 
under water?'’ There was no reply. 

“Did some one misunderstand me?” He 
fairly thundered out the words. The ex- 
citement of the moment before was ex- 
pressing itself in his quivering body. “I 
want to know what boy jumped from the 
s*pringboard a moment ago?” The boys 
looked inquiringly at one another. They 
were unaware that such a thing had hap- 
pened. A long minute passed, during 
which the only sound was the chatter of 
teeth and the quick breathing of the wet 
boys. 

“I want to — ” but he got no further. 
Dale Worth stepped out of line with a 
sheepish “I did, sir.” 

“Just as I thought,” exclaimed Mr. 

71 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Cooper, disgustedly. ‘'Now go to your 
bunks, all of you.'' The line broke, and 
in a second there was a wild chatter of ex- 
citement. 

One of the fundamental laws of the 
camp had been broken. What would be 
the result ? There were as many dii¥erent 
opinions as there were boys, and much 
speculating. 

Mr. Cooper, the “chief," and Mr. Blaine 
held a long conference, then the three 
moved off to Tent One. In earnest tones 
the “chief" explained the seriousness of 
the affair. 

“We can't have fools in a camp like 
this," said he, “for we are just as respon- 
sible for their safety as for that of you 
sensible fellows. Suppose that boy had 
never come up, out there in the dark. 
Suppose he had cramped. Could any one 
have heard him in that deafening noise? 
He would have drowned, that is all. Now, 
if there is any fellow in this tent who 
does n't wish to live up to the simple rules 
we have here, we want him to go home." 

72 


DALE WORTH MAKES MISTAKE 


So down the tent street they went, giv- 
ing the same advice to each group. When 
they reached Tent Six, Dale got angry 
and aired his sentiments freely. 

‘‘Dale, you can live up to our rules or 
go home,'' said the “chief." “If you are 
going to pull off many such stunts we 
do n't want you here anyway." Dale was 
sullen and remained silent until the men 
had passed on to the next tent. Then he 
expressed his views in flowery language, 
concerning every one in general and some 
few men in particular. 

It was a long time before quiet was se- 
cured that night, and it was a still longer 
time before at least one boy fell asleep. 

“To-morrow I will pack up and go 
home," he said to himself. “I will not be 
called down before this bunch for a thing 
like that. I will show them who is my 
boss, and when I get home I will knock 
the camp on every side, for every hour of 
the day something is wrong." At last the 
hot, scalding tears began to come, and he 
sobbed himself to sleep, thinking of the 
73 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


cruel world and the unkind people in it. 
No one cared for him, he was sure. Every- 
body hated him. He was no good any- 
way. How his lonely heart did ache for 
just one friendly word from some one. So 
he slipped off into a troubled sleep. 


74 


CHAPTER V 

A HARD DECISION 


“A ND-A the chutes is tame now/' Bill 
explained to his friends at dinner. 
‘Tt ought to be at least twenty feet 
higher to be any fun." 

‘Tt is thirty-six feet now," exclaimed 
'Xove." ‘‘Gee, I would n't slide down it 
for anything if it was that high." 

“You got brave about that chute awfully 
quick. Bill Ruthford," called Durbin across 
the table. “It was only yesterday you 
w^ere afraid to even slide down the one we 
have. Now you want it twenty feet 
higher. Bill, you 're a marvel." 

“And he would n't have slid down it 
yesterday if Dale had n't pushed him off," 
volunteered Longley, jokingly. 

“It 's a mean trick to shove any one off 
of there," added Studley. “It 's all right 
to have fun, but such monkey business as 
that squabble on the raft this morning 
75 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


makes me disgusted. It does n’t seem like 
Dale will ever learn. Not even by expe- 
rience. 

“What’s he been doing now?” ques- 
tioned Porter. 

“The Twins were out in a boat,” contin- 
ued Studley. “And along comes Dale in 
a boat also. He bet the Twins they 
could n’t keep him from landing on the 
raft. The Twins took him up, and the 
fight began. By and by Dale got mad and 
attempted to clear the deck with an oar. 
In his rage he took a smash at Vincent, 
missed him, and struck the raft. Of 
course the blade of the oar flew off, and 
now the Twins have to pay for it. It was 
their oar, and when they turned in the 
pieces they just asked how much it would 
be. Wasn’t that just like them?” 

“And-a they are dead easy,” broke in 
Bill. “I would n’t ’a’ paid a cent if it 
was n’t my fault.” 

“The Twins know what they ’re doing,” 
cried “Shrimp.” “If they had made a fuss 
over that oar to the ‘chief,’ then Dale 
would have gotten in bad again, and you 
76 


A HARD DECISION 


know what the 'chief said last night. 'One 
more misdemeanor, and you go home, 
Dale.’ ” 

"Gee, that oar will cost the kids a dol- 
lar, won’t it?” giggled "Love.” "How are 
they going to get it? My dad wouldn’t 
give me a dollar for a busted oar. He ’d 
just use the busted part on me good and 
plenty.” 

"O, they will get it all right,” added 
Studley. "And they won’t have to ask 
their dad for it, either. They have earned 
most of it already.” 

"How did they earn it?” asked Porter, 
at once interested. 

"Why, they caught fifty live frogs and 
sold them over at the hotel for bass-bait. 
O, they are n’t so slow. They always 
have money. You know they get every 
fellow’s cheese-cloth when he leaves camp, 
and then, when a new boy comes, they get 
out their supply and sell him what he 
needs at reduced rates.” 

"And that is n’t all,” added Durbin. 
"They get out in the morning and dig 
worms every day, and then sell them. 
77 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Money! Why, they are the best business 
men in camp. Have you ever seen them 
broke? Not on your life.’’ 

Dale was late to supper that evening. 
In fact he did not return to camp until 
nearly seven o’clock. Needless to say that 
was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 
The ^Thief” refused to give him another 
chance, and it was now plainly a case for 
the camp council to deal with. Accord- 
ingly the ball-game after supper was cut 
short and a special meeting of the council 
called. They met promptly down on the 
‘'meditation log,” with every member pres- 
ent. The “chief” outlined the case briefly, 
and without making any suggestions 
turned the matter over to the council. 
There was a thorough discussion of all 
Dale’s offenses; then the case was made 
out and written down. It was the opinion 
of the majority that Dale was at the end 
of his rope, but just what to do no one 
knew exactly. They hated to send him 
home, because no boy had ever yet been 
sent home for misconduct. Yet he had 
had chance after chance, with no improve- 
ment. 78 


A HARD DECISION 


Vincent had been elected to the council 
from Tent One to fill a vacancy, and he 
w^as very decided in his opinion that, bad 
as Dale v^as, he should have another 
chance. 

‘'You fellows want to remember he 
has n’t any home, and he just do n’t fit, 
that ’s all. If we send him away, he will 
forever after be a knocker. We can’t af- 
ford to have one.” 

His argument was convincing, and be- 
fore he had finished the rest thought as he 
did, with the result that a compromise was 
effected. 

“We have got to save Dale, and the 
camp, too,” said Cooper, slowly. “And 
it ’s going to be an awfully tough job. But 
let ’s try.” So it was decided. For Dale’s 
own good he was to have the choice of two 
things. He could either stand before the 
camp and confess his mistakes and ask for 
one more chance, or he could go home. 
He should choose. 

Dale was brought before the council and 
given a chance to state his side of the case, 
but he was sullen, and declined to talk. 
79 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Then Mr. Cooper gave him a few sugges- 
tions and told him the decision of the 
court. He threw back his head and in de- 
fiance declared, with scarcely a moment's 
hesitation, that he would choose to go 
home. 

The council adjourned, and the camp- 
fire was lighted, but a mysterious sadness 
had fallen on the crowd. It was the first 
real serious case of discipline for that sum- 
mer, and it had its effect. The usual call 
for songs was only half-hearted, and for 
the very first evening since camp opened 
the Eberhart yell was omitted. The 
''chief had the brief evening devotion, 
and his remarks only deepened the quiet- 
ness that had settled. Every fellow went 
to bed thinking. No doubt there were 
many resolutions that night to be more 
unselfish and to think more often of the 
other fellow. 

Dale lingered in the shadows and did 
not take the usual evening dip. He was 
utterly unhappy and discontented. His 
pride was having a fierce struggle with his 
8o 


A HARD DECISION 


judgment. His whole heart was full of 
rebellion, yet he was determined. “He 
would go home, back to the city, and tell 
his father he had n’t had a good time; that 
that was why he was coming home. He 
would pack that very night and slip ofif on 
the early morning train, before the others 
were awake.” He was just starting to- 
ward his tent, when he was startled by 
voices in the darkness. He had thought 
he was alone. 

“Wait a minute, old man,” came from 
the shadows, but the voice seemed un- 
familiar. Dale paid no attention, yet his 
heart beat a little faster. “Old man” — it 
sounded strange to him just then. “Who 
was there that cared enough for him to 
call him ‘old man?’ That was what Vin- 
cent called his brother.” 

“I say. Dale, old scout,” came another 
voice from the darkness. Dale stopped 
and turned. In a very shaky voice he 
asked what they wanted. 

The Twins emerged from the bushes 
and caught up with him. 

« 8i 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


‘‘You fellows are almighty friendly all 
at once, now that you know I ’m going 
home,’’ said Dale, bitterly. 

''Now, do n’t get excited,” cautioned 
Harold. "You ’re making a lot of fuss 
over nothing, ’cause you are n’t really go- 
ing home at all. You just think you are.” 

"I’m not, huh!” snapped Dale. "I’ll 
show you.” 

"Now look here. Dale,” began Vincent. 
"We know just how you feel about it all, 
but you are wrong, and what we came out 
here for just now was to tell you we want 
you to stay.” 

"You want me to stay!” exclaimed Dale. 
"Why—” 

"Yes, I know it seems strange to you; 
but honest, old man, we do. It ’s going 
to be hard to stand up and square yourself, 
but it ’s the thing to do, and we want to 
help you make it as easy as we can.” 

"And I want to say, too, that I ’m sorry 
if I have n’t always treated you right, and 
that it was a mean trick of me to take your 
bait that morning, but I only did it for 
fun.” 


82 


A HARD DECISION 


you stay?’^ questioned Harold, 
earnestly. 

Dale dropped his eyes, for the tears 
were coming. He wanted to say ''Yes,'' 
but his pride, his selfishness would not let 
him. 

"No, I 'm going home," he sobbed; then 
broke and ran, leaving the Twins alone in 
the darkness. 

He had been lying quietly in his bunk 
for half an hour, thinking and thinking. 
The camp had been quiet for some time. 
The night was silent except for the mourn- 
ful hooting of an owl and the spasmodic 
music of a host of crickets. He was just 
dozing when he heard a gentle footstep 
outside. Then a dark form squatted at 
the end of his bunk. He could not see 
who it was in the darkness, but it said in 
a low whisper that he could hardly hear: 

"Dale, are you asleep?" He listened, 
and again it came. He could not be mis- 
taken. "Are you asleep. Dale?" 

"No, sir. What is it?" 

"It 's just me," replied Cooper. "I 
could n't sleep until I had had a word with 

83 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


you. I thought probably you would be 
awake. I just wanted to say to you, Dale, 
do the hard thing. There are a lot of us 
here, old man, that believe in you and 
want to see you make good. It is an awful 
thing to turn down an opportunity to 
prove yourself a man. Do n't be blinded 
by selfish motives, boy. Do the thing 
that 's right, even if it is the hardest thing 
you ever did in all your life. I 'm count- 
ing on you to win. Good-night !" 

The figure rose to go. Dale clenched his 
fists. He was truly between two fires. He 
had dared to think he might — yet he had 
decided. 

/'But I'm going, Mr. Cooper. I've 
packed my trunk." He burst into tears 
and buried his head deep in the bedclothes. 

Mr. Cooper stood a long time listening 
to the night sounds. He wanted so much 
to help; but how could he? That was the 
question. At last he slipped silently into 
his tent and to bed, comforted that he had 
at least tried. 

Dale was up and dressed early the next 
morning. Instead of putting on his khaki 
84 


A HARD DECISION 


clothes as usual, he dressed in his city suit. 
His face was still set and determined. He 
looked out over the lake. It had never 
seemed so beautiful or inviting before. He 
looked up the hill toward the lodge, and 
all of his good times during the past two 
weeks came to his mind. He was not hun- 
gry, so asked to be excused from break- 
fast. At devotions he kept his eyes on the 
ground and said not a word to any one. 

The ^^chief ’ spoke to him privately, tell- 
ing him to be sure to settle his account be- 
fore the wagon came. ‘'You must have 
everything in readiness before ten o'clock.'' 

Dale had hoped that the “chief" would 
ask him to stay. He thought he could do 
it if the fellows just teased real hard, but 
they did n't seem to care. He was disap- 
pointed. At half past nine he came to the 
“chief" and in a half defiant way asked if 
he could n't square himself with him in- 
stead of with the whole camp. The “chief" 
took him into the office, and together they 
talked it over. 

“No, Dale," replied the “chief." “I 
would n't dare to do such a thing, even if 

85 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


it were in my power, which it is not. It 
would be unjust to you.'’' 

“I do n't see how," questioned Dale. 

‘^Because you have not wronged me; 
you have not disobeyed me or broken my 
laws at all. It is the camp that you have 
disgraced — and yourself. It is up to you, 
my boy, entirely. I can not change it or 
make it any easier for you." 

‘d. can't stand up before all those fel- 
lows," stammered Dale. “I could n't do 
it to save my life. I am sorry, though, 
but — " His face flamed, and the old de- 
flance came back. “But it was n't all my 
fault." He took out his pocketbook, set- 
tled his account, and prepared to go. It 
was twenty minutes after ten, and his ear 
caught the rumble of the heavy farm 
wagon coming for his trunk. Down on 
the beach Dale could see the fellows of his 
tent preparing their part for the weekly 
Saturday night stunt fire. He remem- 
bered that he had a part in the program. 
They were counting on him to help. He 
looked helplessly about him. Two more 
minutes, and it would be too late. Just 
86 


A HARD DECISION 


then the Twins landed, holding up three 
splendid bass. He did want so much to 
catch some bass. He had started toward 
the tents, but turned and fled up the hill 
as fast as his legs could carry him. A 
strange tremor ran through his body. He 
straightened his shoulders and threw back 
his head. He met the ‘'chief’ just coming 
out of his office. 

“Call the council, quick, Mr. Howbert,” 
he called out. “Here comes the wagon, 
and I Ve changed my mind. I ’m going to 
do it. I ’m going to square myself. Then 
can I stay?” he asked, eagerly. 

The “chief” put out his hand. “Put it 
there, Dale. I ’m glad.” 

After a few words with Mr. George the 
wagon turned and went back the way it 
had come. Dale watched it disappear over 
the hill, and he was almost sorry he had 
let it go away again, but there was no 
turning back now. He slipped into his 
tent and in a jiffy was into his old camp 
clothes again. He felt better already. 

That noon meal was not soon forgotten 
in Camp Eberhart, for when the long line 

87 


The three rivers kids 


came to attention, the 'Thief announced 
that Dale wanted "to say a word/’ 

He stepped out and faced the line. The 
room was absolutely quiet. His voice 
failed him at first, then it came in queer, 
squeaky tones. 

"PTllows, I ’m sorry I did it — and — I 
want another chance to — make good.” 
He looked appealingly at the crowd. 

"Give him a chance,” some one shouted. 
Then applause broke out all along the line. 

"And-a I ’ll be darned!” exclaimed Bill. 

"I told you he would stay,” whispered 
Vincent. "Now let ’s help him all we can.” 


88 


CHAPTER VI 


CONCERNING AN ACCIDENT, AND 
HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 

A fter breakfast on Saturday the 
Twins summoned “Love’’ Collins, 
Dale Worth, and “Shrimp” Warren 
to a secret meeting behind the locker- 
house. 

“Gee, fellows,” began Vincent, ex- 
citedly. “Last night I caught the biggest 
leather-back you ever laid your lamps on, 
and I Ve got him tied up so he can’t get 
away.” 

“And what we want with you fellows,” 
added Harold, “is this: Let’s the five of 
us sneak off, lay a long set-line, and catch 
enough turtles for the camp dinner to-day. 
We ’ll treat the camp to turtle meat. 
What do you say? They’re awful hard 
to dress, but me an’ Vincent will show 
the rest of you how, so you can help. 
We’ll be a regular gang like goes after 
89 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


whale and seals, and we dl catch a whole 
boat load. Will you go?'' 

'T got lots of big hooks," cried 
‘^Shrimp." 

“I got about a mile of heavy string," 
added Dale. 

In a few moments the details were ar- 
ranged, and the turtle ship slipped quietly 
out of the harbor and made for the high 
seas. Vincent was captain and gave or- 
ders like a veteran. The hooks were baited 
with dead fish, sinkers attached, and the 
long line stretched from the island to the 
mainland. 

At ten o'clock The Dingbat and her 
crew returned to the line. With due cere- 
mony they hoisted the cable and skidded 
the monsters in on the . deck, where they 
were made fast by Captain ''Rocky." One 
after another the great, sleepy fellows 
were pulled in, until there were nine in 
the hull of the craft. "Love" was kept 
busy keeping them in the bottom of the 
boat, while the others operated the set-line 
and rebaited the hooks. 

The boys were mightily pleased when at 
90 




he good ship “ 
of the harbor 


Dingbat ” 




quietly slipped out 



. • 

« r • ,* ;• 'I 








' X i* 


• * 






X 


1 


I 


l\ 



iT-’- * 


•. '* 


"m • 


' ;■? ■«•■ '’■'_ eBUteic.'ifc-^w 


la 


fi 


•s 


- * 'iM'- 

-A - ' ># ftW- *W ' ^ ‘ ■■ ‘ «*'■*• '*’ - 

^ • •- '.» ; 









’ *. 




’ i ^ ’ 


r'/K'-' 





I’-rff AVf ,•.?'.-"■: if ‘•lh(f>'^.5'>t^-''i-3l s; 

•r ■!»■•, ■ ’;._^'i,..v-^‘*’:-'^>r-/.';ir. , ".-^S 

5K^ H'-" ?> '^yglM ‘ 



vM,, ' ^■■'’? “i 


(to?? ^-4 

3 ^* y. V 




^ 


•Vi V^X -H 


W 1 .^ Y;> 



• t 




•^v .:j 

^ . X,A0 








«■ - 


• • 'I 




v t' ■ .* c 'i •'id;,* . 



AW ¥L 


.1 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


dinner time Cooper proposed three rous- 
ing cheers for The Dingbat and her 
crew. The turtle, cooked to a delicious 
brown, was an appetizing morsel as well 
as a novelty. 

Just after dinner Bill came proudly into 
camp with a splendid two-pound bass. 
His face fairly shone with pleasure. 

'‘And-a now I get my Brown Rag,’’ he 
called out to Cooper. “Have you gotten 
yours yet?” Mr. Cooper replied that he 
would have it by night if all went well, 
and Bill was doubly pleased at the pros- 
pect of being awarded his honor at the 
same time that Cooper was to receive his. 

Saturday was receiving day at camp, 
and alwa3^s brought a few parents to spend 
Sunday. Therefore every boy waited anx- 
iously for the noon wagon to arrive, in the 
hope that his mother or father might come. 

It was just a week since the Botting 
boys had arrived, yet they wondered why 
the new fellows should look so shy and 
ill at ease. They sized them up, each one 
separately, and on the whole were satis- 
fied. One new arrival they promptly 
91 


I'HE three rivers KIDS 


dubbed “Fat/’ and another ^‘Specks” be- 
cause of his heavy gold-rimmed specta- 
cles; while a third earned the title of 
‘'Cow’s Tail” before he had been in camp 
a day, because he was always behind. 

The little launch from across the lake 
had been at the camp in the morning, and, 
much to the delight of every boy, Mr. 
Blaine had arranged a water-ball game on 
the hotel bathing beach for three o’clock. 

Jimmie Vanden was promptly elected 
captain, and was soon busy picking out his 
team. The entire camp was to go over in 
the boats, and the hotel launch was to tow 
them over. Every camper was to wear 
his camp emblem and to be above all 
things a real sport while away from home. 

The hotel team had the advantage over 
the camp nine because they were much 
heavier, and also because they had had 
some practice. Still there were reasons 
for expecting a really good game, for 
Jimmie was a regular “water-dog” and 
Martin was by no means slow. Dale could 
swim under water exceptionally well, and 
so would make a good base-swimmer. 

92 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


Both Twins were marvels of agility in the 
water, and “Shrimp’' Warren, in addition 
to his swimming ability, was a splendid 
catcher. 

Promptly at two-thirty the boats were 
loaded, and the entire camp departed for 
the hotel. It was a perfect day, and the 
water was as quiet as a huge mirror. The 
guests of the hotel were out in full force 
and were seated on the beach when the 
campers arrived. The diamond was al- 
ready laid off in about three feet of water, 
the floating bases kept in place by boat 
anchors. Each base, including home-plate, 
was marked with a colored flag fastened to 
a slender stick stuck into the base. The 
umpire took his place in a boat just back 
of the pitcher. 

The camp team, all in white, sleeveless 
jerseys and black trunks, clean and spot- 
less from the morning’s washing, lined up 
on the beach and, aided by the other camp- 
ers, gave a rousing Eberhart yell, followed 
by three cheers for the hotel team; then 
like clock-work they ran to the beach, 
dived, and swam to their various positions. 
93 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


The camp had their outs, with Martin 
pitching*. The ball was large and very 
light, which made it the more difficult to 
throw, besides the water in the pitcher’s 
box was nearE to his waist. 

The umpire called the game, and the 
first ball was pitched, the batter striking 
at it with his open hand. An3"thing within 
striking distance was counted a strike, 
while everything wild was a ball. A big, 
fat man was first batter for the hotel, and 
was an imposing sight, to be sure. His 
bathing suit was very brilliant : black, with 
pink stripes running around his rotund 
body. Because of his nearly bald head he 
promptly won the title of ‘'Old Baldy.” 
He struck at the ball, but, unfortunately 
for him, it was clear out of reach. 

“Strike one!” called the umpire, while 
the campers danced with excitement. 

“And-a shut your eyes and throw the 
ball,” called out Bill to the pitcher. “He ’s 
so big you can’t miss him.” The crowd 
howled with delight, then went crazy with 
enthusiasm as the batter fairly met the ball 
and sent it out to center field. Dale was 
94 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


playing that position. Like a shot he was 
after the ball. Reaching it, he disappeared 
under water, not to come up until he had 
reached ‘^Old Baldy,’’ who was making des- 
perate efforts to reach second. “Baldy’s’’ 
wind was already gone, and he was spurt- 
ing lake water like some great whale. 
Dale, carrying the ball in one hand, 
grabbed ^‘Baldy’s’’ leg and pulled him un- 
der, but in the skirmish he let go of the 
ball. There was a shout, a wild scramble, 
and for a few seconds it was a question 
whether Baldy would get out alive or not, 
for several players had taken his bald head 
for the white water-ball, and were doing 
their best to get it away from one another. 
Finally the real ball was secured, '‘Baldy’’ 
was touched out, and a new batter stepped 
up to the plate. 

The "dean” was on first, and his long, 
lean body was especially adapted to the 
position, for just at first base the bottom 
stepped off. Time and again a shorter 
man would have lost the ball in this deep 
water, while the "dean” would simply 
reach out and take hold of it. 

95 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


The second batter popped up a good 
fly, and, being an expert swimmer, made 
first with very little effort. On the first 
ball he stole second, and on the second 
strike ‘‘Shrimp’’ lost the ball, while the 
man on second ducked, to appear a mo- 
ment later at third. 

The third man up fanned out, making 
two out, and the next batter knocked an 
easy fly right into Martin’s hands. 

The “dean” was first up for the camp 
and knocked a two-bagger to start with. 
Then followed two outs. Longley bunted 
and got safe to first, while the “dean” stole 
second by outwitting the shortstop. 

Vincent was up to bat — two outs and no 
runs. The camp boys shouted all manner 
of advice to him until the pitcher had 
trouble in placing the ball. Vincent was 
so small he was hard to find, consequently 
he got his base on balls. Harold followed 
him to the bat. 

“Now, old boy, soak her out,” called 
Dale. 

“And-a kill it, kid,” shouted Bill. 

“Strike one!” called the umpire. 

96 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


^'Strike two !” came a second later. Har- 
old dug his feet into the wet sand and pre- 
pared to make his last attempt, conscious 
that his reputation was at stake. The 
ball went wild. He had another chance. 
He swung his arm hard, then, suddenly 
changing his mind, he bunted. The ball 
fell dead in front of home-plate, but Har- 
old was gone. The catcher made a dive 
for it and missed it, his splash sending it 
floating far back of home-plate. He swam 
after it, then hurled it to first, but Harold 
was already there and the ''dean'’ safely 
home. The first-baseman got excited and 
threw the ball wildly to third. Third 
missed it, and Vincent stole third. Harold 
ducked, swam wide, and popped up at sec- 
ond just in time to see the ball go to the 
pitcher. He was safe. 

The crowd went wild. The first score 
had been made, and there were two men 
on bases. The camp team promptly lost 
their heads in the excitement, while the 
hotel tightened up their play, with the re- 
sult that the inning closed one to nothing, 
in favor of the camp. 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


In the next inning the hotel ran in three 
runs and were getting down to business 
better every minute. ‘‘Baldy’^ was cer- 
tainly a wide-awake catcher, even if he did 
keep every player doubled up with laugh- 
ter, for he would stop the game now and 
then to mop the top of his bald pate with 
a big, red turkish towel, which he kept on 
the end of the pier. 

‘Xove’’ became so interested in 
‘'Baldy’s'’ antics that he forgot to keep 
score, and as a result, at the fifth inning, 
much to ^Xove's’^ embarrassment, all of 
the players rushed out of the water to 
argue half a dozen points that had been 
lost in the fun. The hotel pitcher grew 
angry in his excitement. ''Baldy’’ promptly 
grabbed him by the neck and escorted him 
to the bath-house. As he was hurried 
away he muttered that he would come 
over to the camp and clean out the entire 
establishment later in the day. 

The next two innings were hard fought, 
neither side making a single score, and 
again the excitement had grown intense. 
It had seriously disabled the hotel team 
98 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


when their pitcher was put out, yet they 
fought on, substituting man after man in 
an effort to shut out the campers. The 
“dean"’ made a good hit, and by skillful 
playing managed to make a score on it, so 
that in the eighth inning it was only three 
to two in the hotel’s favor. 

In the last inning Dale did splendid 
work, keeping his head in a remarkable 
fashion for him, while Martin did great 
work in the box. Mr. Verne was well-nigh 
impassable in his position at first, and 
‘‘Shrimp” did himself credit. 

The hotel was out, and the camp had 
their last bats, but fell down miserably, 
three men fanning in quick succession. 
The game was over and the camp had 
been beaten, but on the whole it was a 
splendid game and greatly enjoyed by all. 
Dale declared he had not had such a good 
time ever before in his life. Bill was very 
sure that he had drunk most of Corey 
Lake, but was not so full that he declined 
Mr. Cooper’s invitation to eat ice-cream 
at the den on the way home. 

“So long, ‘Baldy,’ ” shouted the Twins 

99 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


in unison as they clambered into their 
boat. 

''Come again, kids!’' shouted back the 
jovial fat man. "Come, and bring your 
knitting.” 

The little fleet was soon homeward 
bound, each boat filled with happy young- 
sters. Without exception, every boat was 
headed straight for the little ice-cream 
parlor, every boy with an ice-cream appe- 
tite. In less than no time the small room 
was full of noisy boys, each shouting their 
order to the bewildered clerk at the soda 
fountain. 

"I want a bald-headed sundae,” shouted 
Vincent. 

"Give me a pitcher’s delight,” called 
"Shrimp,” while Harold refused every- 
thing but a Camp Eberhart special, made 
according to his own directions. 

In one corner there was a clinking of 
water-glasses, while a friendly toast was 
pledged to "Old Baldy.” At one table each 
boy ordered a different kind of sundae. 
Then they were all rotated round the 
table, each boy taking a good spoonful 
lOO 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


from every dish as it passed him. ''Fat’' 
had just devoured two sodas and was or- 
dering a third when his leader interfered. 
One small boy had just discovered how 
easy it was to spray the whole crowd with 
warm soda-pop from a bottle he was vig- 
orously shaking. 

The "chief entered and worked his way 
through the happy throng to Dale. 

"Say, Dale, will you stop at the grocery 
on your way home, present this order, and 
get two bushels of potatoes? There 's not 
a one in camp, and also get the corn for 
our corn-roast to-night.” Dale was pleased 
to think that the "chief had chosen him, 
and he could not help showing his pleas- 
ure. At the water’s edge there was a 
good-natured water fight in progress, but 
after a little coaxing. Dale "Love,” and 
Harold were allowed to embark for the 
grocery. They had gotten hardly a hun- 
dred feet from the shore when Vincent 
came running down the pier, shouting at 
the top of his voice. He was very indig- 
nant at being left behind, for was he not 
the captain of the good ship Dingbat? 
lOI 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


The boat came back and tried in vain to 
take him aboard, but the fellows on the 
pier refused to let them land. 

^‘Go on and get those Irish lemons!’’ 
shouted Durbin. 

‘‘Be sure you do n’t buy popcorn for the 
corn-roast,” advised Longley. Dale took 
charge and ordered the ship out, leaving 
Vincent behind, a move which he after- 
ward regretted. 

“Do n’t get those potatoes wet, or they 
will sprout,” was the last advice from the 
shore. 

It was with considerable eifort that the 
potatoes and corn were loaded into the 
boat. And had the good ship been manned 
by her rightful captain, no doubt he would 
have noticed as they pulled out into deep 
water that she was considerably over- 
loaded. But what did an unruly crew of 
mutineers care about safety on such a day, 
with a howling band of pirates not more 
than a mile behind them, ready at any mo- 
ment to swoop down upon them and cap- 
ture their precious cargo. 

102 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


‘‘Pull like Sam Hill!^’ ordered the self- 
appointed captain. “We dl never get to 
camp with a potato if they catch up with 
us.’’ 

“O shucks!” cried Harold. “We have 
all the ammunition. Two bushels of can- 
non-balls and ten dozen ears of ‘canister.’ 
What more do you want?” 

“Hey, you rube, quit your splashing,” 
cried Dale from his place in the bow. 

“I ’ll! not splashing,” retorted Harold. 
“It ’s the waves, and they ’re coming over 
the edge.” 

The heavily laden little craft had slipped 
out from the lee of the long point now 
and was just entering the rough water. A 
sharp wind had sprung up from the west, 
and the lake was growing more choppy 
every minute. The boys pulled hard, but 
were making no headway. In fact it was 
difficult to even keep the boat headed in 
the right direction. The wind was fast 
carrying them out into the middle of the 
lake, while every few strokes a white-cap 
would splash over the bow into the boat. 

103 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


There was already three or four inches of 
water in the bottom. 

‘'Hey, you, ‘Love,’ get busy,” ordered 
Dale, “and bail out that water.” 

“What with?” asked “Love,” excitedly. 

“With a bucket or something,” said 
Dale, not realizing how absurd the state- 
ment was. 

Just then a great wave struck the boat 
squarely, wetting Harold from head to 
foot. Dale completely lost his head and 
likewise his good humor, while the boat 
floundered in the trough of the wave. 

“Pull, pull!” shouted Dale, but he was 
more interested in the amount of work 
Harold was doing than in his own efforts. 

Things began to look very serious for 
the boys. The sun had slipped behind a 
leaden cloud, and a distinct chill had crept 
into the now strong wind. They were in 
the midst of a real squall, and were drift- 
ing farther into it every moment. “Love” 
pulled off his shoe and bailed water for 
dear life. Dale shouted all kinds of orders, 
then did exactly the opposite. Harold 
pulled, then backwatered, doing his best to 
104 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


keep the boat in the line of the wind, for 
he clearly realized their danger. Strange 
as it may seem, the thought of lightening 
the boat by dumping overboard some of 
their cargo had not occurred to any of 
them. 

“Sit still!’’ growled Dale. “Do you 
want to tip us over?” The big basket of 
green corn behind him had shifted to one 
side considerably. 

“I am still,” retorted Harold. “Sit still 
yourself, and keep your end around 
square.” 

A great wave was coming swiftly to- 
ward them, its white crest dancing glee- 
fully. Dale gave a mighty pull. As it 
struck his oar-lock slipped from its socket 
and he was tumbled over backwards with 
the force of his stroke. The basket slipped 
on to one gunwale, and in an instant the 
boat was taking water. “Love” grabbed 
desperately for the rail and caught the 
edge just as the boat went over. In an in- 
stant all were in the water — boys, oars, 
potatoes, corn. The bags of potatoes sank 
like stones, while the corn floated on the 
lOS 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


water, and the basket, bottom-side up, 
sped away before the wind. 

Dale, who was a good swimmer, struck 
out blindly, never turning to see what had 
become of his companions. ‘'Love'' gave 
one cry and disappeared in the water. 
Harold heard him and turned quickly. He 
saw “Love" come to the surface just ahead 
of him. 

“Can you keep up?" he cried. 

“Not long," returned “Love." “My 
clothes are so heavy." 

“If I come to you, you will drown both 
of us," gulped Harold. A big wave rolled 
over him, and when he again caught sight 
of “Love" he was some distance away. 

“Keep up your nerve," he shouted. 
“I 'm coming." Then he caught sight of 
the empty boat, bottom-side up, and in a 
flash he was after it. 

“Swim toward me," he called to “Love," 
as he went after the boat, which had 
turned broadside to the waves and was be- 
ing tossed up and down in the troughs. 
In a moment he reached it and began to 
io6 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


push it toward 'Xove/’ shouting all the 
while, '1 'm coming/' 

‘'Now, do n't grab me," he ordered, 
when close to “Love." “Grab the boat 
and hold on. It will hold us both up." 
“Love" did as he was directed, holding on 
to one end while Harold held to the other. 
They were drifting very fast now, and for 
the first time looked about them. It 
seemed ages since the boat had tipped 
over. The waves were too high to see far, 
but somewhere they heard a shout, and in 
another moment they saw a boat coming 
toward them. 

“Stick tight, old boy! We 're coming." 

“Hang on for dear life," came a shrill, 
excited tone. 

“It 's Cooper," gulped Harold, but 
“Love" did not answer, and Harold turned 
just in time to see “Love" loose his hold 
and slip below the surface of the water. 

He gave a cry of fright, cut loose from 
the floating boat, and dived where he had 
seen “Love" go down. Cooper saw him 
disappear, and a great lump came into his 
107 


THE three rivers KIDS 


throat. He was nearly exhausted from 
the tremendous efforts of his row. Every 
one of his mighty muscles quivered. He 
handed the oars to Vincent and was just 
about to dive when Harold came to the 
surface, one hand firmly holding “Love’' 
by the hair. In an instant Cooper had 
them in his arms and was lifting them into 
the boat. Meanwhile Mr. Blaine arrived 
in a second boat, and the next thing the 
boys knew they were tucked away in 
warm blankets in the camp lodge. 

Mr. Cooper and Vincent sat quietly by 
Harold’s bed, and Mr. Blaine by “Love’s.” 
Harold awoke first, and started with a cry. 
“Where ’s Xove?’ ” he asked with his first 
breath, as a frightened look came into his 
face. 

“He ’s all right, old boy. Go easy now,” 
cautioned Cooper. 

“And Dale?” he asked. 

“O, Dale is all right, too,” answered 
Vincent. “He swam until Mr. Blaine 
picked him up in the boat.” A smile came 
to Harold’s face, then he closed his eyes 
again for a little while. In a few minutes, 
io8 


HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD 


however, he insisted on sitting up, and 
after drinking a bowl of warm soup that 
the chef had prepared for him he felt 
stronger. '‘Love’’ now awakened from his 
sleep, and the first thing that caught his 
eye was a big yellow wasp buzzing away 
on the window screen. 

"Gee, he ’s a big one,” he murmured, 
then giggled his happy little giggle, but 
without the usual life in it. 

"I suppose he belongs to the order of 
stingers, don’t he, Mr. Cooper?” 

"You better be quiet,” suggested Mr. 
Blaine, and "Love” quietly settled back on 
his pillow. 

"Gee, but I did have the cramps,” he 
whispered, confidentially. "I just could n’t 
hold on another jiffy.” Then he turned 
toward Harold in the next bed. "You ’re 
a regular kingfisher, Harold ; you grabbed 
me just like you were hungry.” 

"Now I won’t get a chance to light my 
fires to-day,” moaned Harold, and I had 
counted so on getting my Brown Rag to- 
night, along with Mr. Cooper.” 

"Not to-day, I guess,” sympathized Mr. 

109 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Cooper. ''But there will be other Satur- 
days.^^ 

"O, it’s stunt night, too, isn’t it?” 
sighed "Love.” "Have we got to stay 
here all evening, while you fellows have all 
the fun, just because we got a ducking?” 

"We ’ll see,” said Mr. Blaine, good- 
naturedly. "You go to sleep again, if you 
can, and if you feel real good by night 
we ’ll wrap you in blankets and take you 
to the fire; but mind, not unless you go to 
sleep right now.” 

"I ’d sleep a week before I ’d miss those 
stunts to-night,” confided "Love.” "They 
will be great, won’t they?” 

Mr. Blaine held up a finger for quiet, 
then silently left the room. 


no 


CHAPTER VII 


THE STUNTS AND HAROLD’S RE- 
WARD 

I T was an excited group of boys that 
gathered about the big stunt-fire that 
evening. There was but one real sub- 
ject of talk among the fellows, and that 
was the accident on the lake, and its hero, 
Harold Botting. 

Mr. Blaine had held a secret conference 
with Cooper and the “chief,” and they had 
agreed that for Dale’s own sake they 
would not mention the fact that in the ex- 
citement of the moment he had forsaken 
the smaller boys and thought only of his 
own safety. He had been picked up far 
from the other boys, swimming hard, and 
had offered no explanation as to why he 
had left the scene of the accident. 

“If Harold tells it, we can do nothing,” 
Mr. Blaine had said. 

“But he ’s too much of a sport to say a 

III 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


word about it,” replied Mr. Cooper, ^'and 
I do n^t believe 'Love’ has ever thought 
of it. If the fellows find it out. Dale is 
done for here.” 

Harold and "Love” were kept wrapped 
in their blankets, much to their disgust, 
while the other fellows did the usual cheer- 
ing and singing, ending that part of the 
program with a wild dance about the fire, 
then three rousing cheers for Harold, 
"Love,” and Dale. For some reason that 
no one exactly understood, enthusiasm 
was lacking when it came to the cheer for 
Dale. He was gloomy and stood apart, 
not entering into the real fun of the occa- 
sion. 

The yells were all over and the stunts 
were just about to begin, it being the cus- 
tom that each tent give a stunt on stunt 
night, when Harold from his seat by a big 
tree cried out: 

"You sap-heads, you forgot 'Bald}^’ 
Now whoop ’er up.” 

This was the starter for a second spasm 
of yells, and it was fully twenty minutes 
before order was again restored. 

II2 


STUNTS AND HAROLD’S REWARD' 


“We want to hear about the accident,” 
shouted half a dozen fellows. “We want 
a speech from 'Portage, ’ ” howled the 
crowd. “Speech ! Speech !” 

Plarold became bashful and declined. 
He did not like such popularity, for he, like 
the real hero that he was, was unconscious 
that he had done anything so wonderful 
except just to do his duty. If Mr. Blaine 
would have allowed it, Harold would have 
been snatched up and carried on many 
shoulders to the circle of fire-light. But 
he intervened and urged the fellows to go 
easy. 

Mr. George, having heard of the events 
of the afternoon, had come over to enjoy 
the evening’s fun and to hear more of the 
accident. As was his custom, he brought 
with him a bushel of apples. Now, in or- 
der to divert the boys’ attention from Har- 
old, he rose and, picking up the basket, 
passed down the line, allowing every boy 
to help himself. Then Harold told very 
briefly and in a straight-forward manner 
just how the accident had occurred, giving 
“Love” and Dale great credit for the way 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


they had kept their heads and showed their 
nerve, ending by casting all the glory for 
their rescue on Cooper. Cooper rose 
hastily and corrected the story, giving the 
details their true proportion. He made it 
very clear that he had done nothing praise- 
worthy and had come awfully near being 
too late to even help at all. There were 
three last rousing cheers for Harold; then 
the stunts began. 

The stunts were certainly worth all the 
effort that had been put into them. Tent 
One had a take-off on the chef and his 
method of serving the daily food. They 
got off many of his set expressions, much 
to the delight of all. 

Tent Two burlesqued Mr. Blaine's les- 
sons in First Aid to the Injured, and kept 
the entire camp roaring with good-natured 
laughter at the treatment given the differ- 
ent patients. They were especially de- 
lighted when the practicing physicians de- 
clared that a mustard poultice on ‘"Fat's" 
round stomach was the only thing that 
would cure his headache. But when they 
said that two large doses of castor-oil 
114 


STUNTS AND HAROLD^S REWARD 


would cure any corn, the amusement knew 
no bounds. 

Tent Three gave a modern operation for 
appendicitis. The patient, moaning and 
crying, was brought in on a stretcher. 
First a very learned French doctor was 
called for the sick man, and after a long 
and careful examination of the patient’s 
pocketbook he declared the case was not 
appendicitis at all, but a bad case of can- 
cer. The nurses, not being satisfied, called 
in a prominent German specialist, who 
after due deliberation declared it appen- 
dicitis. It was decided to operate; so 
things were prepared. A nurse brought 
in, in a wheelbarrow, a saw, a hammer, a 
brace and bit, a crowbar, and a box of 
nails. With the help of the above instru- 
ments the opening was finally effected, and 
the strange things that were removed from 
that patient’s body! Sixteen wieners in 
a long string, a small ham, and two loaves 
of bread, a live kitten, a young duck, and 
a rusty horseshoe. 

‘T told you so once alreaty,” declared 
the German doctor. “You see now it was 

115 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


the appendix, ain’t it?” The Erenchman 
paid no attention to these remarks, but 
seemed lost in further investigation. Fi- 
nally, with a shout, he produced a bright 
and shining tin-can. Presenting it with 
great ceremony to the German doctor, he 
said, ''Et ees, you see, as I said at the be- 
ginning, a can-sir.” The crowd went wild 
with delight and applauded long and vig- 
orously. It was the best yet. 

Mr. Cooper’s tent came next and repre- 
sented Mr. Verne having a class in Nature 
Study, each student bringing some bio- 
logical specimen to him for identification. 
It was very clever, and occasioned another 
great uproar. 

Bill Ruthford came tripping in with a 
large branch in his hand, to which was at- 
tached a brown jug. ''And-a, Mr. Verne, 
I found this in the big swamp. Can you 
tell me what it is?” 

The supposed Mr. Verne was greatly 
surprised at seeing such a specimen in that 
region, and asked many questions concern- 
ing it. 

‘‘Yes, William, it is very rare, especially 
ii6 


STUNTS AND HAROLD^S REWARD 


in this region. I have not seen any of it 
since leaving the city, and it should be 
carefully preserved. Its scientific name 
I do not know, but its common name is 
‘Anheiser Bush.' " 

This was followed with cries of ‘‘Rot- 
ten!" “Bum joke!" “Drown him!" 

The next scholar brought in a mysteri- 
ous package, carefully tied up. After due 
ceremony the strings were cut and the 
package opened, revealing a medium-sized, 
very-much-alive, hard-shelled turtle. The 
instructor was delighted, for according to 
his statement it was a very rare and in- 
teresting animal, as well as a dangerous 
one, its common name being the Nor- 
wegian bedbug. 

One brought in several small American 
flags, which the professor declared were 
splendid specimens of the sweet iris, com- 
monly called flags. Another brought a 
dozen choice specimens of dead mosqui- 
toes, which the professor pronounced 
“genuine humming-birds," calling special 
attention to their dainty, long bills. 

The next brought a young garter-snake, 
117 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 

dangling him fearlessly by the tail. This 
specimen bothered the professor, and it 
was only after a long and careful examina- 
tion of his elaborate natural history that 
he decided that it must be an escaped 
“noodle from day before yesterday’s 
soup.” 

Tent Five gave a mock wedding, and Six 
built several very clever pyramids. Seven 
had the only troupe of real “coon” min- 
strels. And so on, until every group had 
had its chance to entertain. 

After the stunts were over, the “chief” 
stepped into the circle of firelight and 
motioned for silence. Every boy listened 
eagerly, for in his hand he held several of 
the much-coveted Brown and Green Rags, 
which were simply large silk handker- 
chiefs with the camp emblem in white on 
one corner. 

“I am especially glad to have the privi- 
lege of awarding several Rags to-night,” 
he began, “for it makes me feel good to 
present a Rag to any of you fellows, be- 
cause I know it represents a lot of con- 
scientious work on your part. The value 
ii8 


STUNTS AND HAROLD’S REWARD 


of these Rags is not in themselves, but in 
what they represent. They are to our 
camp what the great Yale ‘Y’ is to Yale, 
or the famous crimson ‘H’ is to the Har- 
vard men. They stand for achievement. 
They represent the hardship overcome. 
They spell growth to every man who wins 
one. A fellow can not come into this 
camp and win either his Brown or Green 
Rag and still be the same fellow he was 
before he came, for in receiving his rag 
he is receiving a certificate for things ac- 
complished, growth in all-round develop- 
ment. I hope that in after years, when 
you look on your Rag, you will have re- 
freshing memories of shady nooks and 
wild flowers, of improved athletic records 
and worth-while hikes into the country, of 
woodcraft learned and, most of all, of a 
real fellowship with a crowd of clean, 
happy, healthy fellows. 

‘T am especially glad to-night to present 
to Mr. Cooper his Brown Rag, and his 
Green Rag, too. He has worked hard for 
both of them. Cooper, the Green Rag rep- 
resents the highest honor this camp can 
119 


THE three rivers kids 


give a camper. It stands for leadership 
in all that word implies, and I know you 
gladly accept the obligation that this Rag 
imposes.’' 

Cooper stepped forward, received his 
Rags, and at the urgent demand for a 
“speech” made a few remarks. All eyes 
were turned upon him admiringly. 

Bill Ruthford and several others were 
then presented with their Brown Rags, 
each one in turn repeating Cooper’s speech 
of acceptance, much to the amusement of 
the crowd. 

Harold was looking on with wistful 
eyes, for he had counted so much on get- 
ting his Brown Rag at the same time as 
Cooper and Vincent got theirs. He would 
get it next week, though, and meanwhile 
do a lot of work toward his Green one. 

The “chief” still stood in the firelight, 
waiting for the happy chatter to cease. 
He seemed to have something more to say. 
When the crowd had quieted down he put 
his hand into his sweater pocket and 
pulled out a small package, which he held 
120 


STUNTS AND HAROLD’S REWARD 


before him in his hand. Then, in quiet, 
well-measured tones, he began: 

“Fellows, I believe that you will agree 
with me that the boy who gets most out 
of this camp is the fellow who puts most 
into it. The fellow who is willing to sacri- 
fice himself for the sake of the other fel- 
low is the boy that we most admire, for 
it takes real manhood to be unselfish. 

“To-day has been a day that will not 
soon be forgotten by some of us. To-night 
we have a boy in this camp who has shown 
us a splendid bit of the unselfish spirit, pur- 
chased at the risk of his own life.” All 
eyes were turned toward Harold. 

“Every one of you has read over and 
over again the requirements for our Camp 
Honor System, and you will all recall that 
at the end this note is added: ‘Upon the 
unanimous vote of all members of the 
Green Rag Society, a Green Rag, repre- 
senting the highest honor this camp can 
bestow, may be awarded to a camper with- 
out requiring the necessary tests of him, 
for the saving of a human life.’ Little did 
121 


The three rivers kids 


the council that made that note expect 
that we would be given a chance to take 
advantage of it so soon. Harold’’ — and 
the 'Thief” unwrapped the package in his 
hand, revealing a Green Rag — "we con- 
sider it an honor to be able to give you 
this Rag, and in this little way show how 
we, as a camp, regard an unselfish act such 
as you performed to-day.” 

There was a deafening shout of applause 
and a final "Three cheers for 'Portage!’ ” 
"Love” slipped his arm around Harold’s 
shoulder and giggled his delight. The 
"chief” noticed that Dale Worth was no- 
where to be seen, and wondered at it. 

The fire had burned low now and was 
just a heap of glowing embers. The crowd 
broke up. Some went to bed, others sat 
around the dying fire telling stories, for 
on "stunt-night” the general rule of "all 
quiet at nine” was suspended. Many of 
the fellows looked forward to the story 
hour with even more interest than to the 
stunts. To-night a special treat was prom- 
ised them in the presence of Mr. George, 
who, without exception, held first place 
122 


STUNTS AND HAROLD’S REWARD 


when it came to stories. The boys cud- 
dled up close to the fire and became quiet. 

‘'Mr. George, won’t you tell us some 
more stories about this lake when the In- 
dians were here?” asked Harold. 

“Yes, do,” seconded “Love,” from his 
blanket. “Yes, yes,” came from the whole 
group. 

Mr. George perched himself comfort- 
ably at the end of a big log and laughed 
good-naturedly. 

“Well, by jolly, boys, I hardly know 
what to tell you about. I ’ve told you 
about the ‘sea-serpent’ we used to have 
here when I was a boy, and about the old 
log schoolhouse that used to stand at the 
end of Little Corey. That ’s where I got 
all my schoolin’. The times us kids used 
to have there beats your good times now- 
adays all to smithereens.” For a moment 
he was lost in reviewing in his mind the 
stories he had told them. 

“Tell us about the old fellow that be- 
lieved he could turn stones to gold,” whis- 
pered Harold. 

“Yes, that ’s the one,” echoed “Love.” 

123 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


“About the old fellow that saved stones, 
eh? Well, there ain’t much to tell you 
boys about him. He was gone several 
years before our family came here to live, 
but I recollect bearin’ a good deal about 
him. He was the very first white man in 
this region, I think, and was the man that 
homesteaded this farm. He built the main 
part of my house years and years ago, and 
set out our old orchard. He was sort of 
an Indian trader, I think, and made his 
living by tradin’ with the Indians for their 
furs. He was the first white man to live 
on this lake, and when he came all this 
open country was the most beautiful forest 
I have ever seen. This ground where the 
camp is now, was in them days covered 
with great oaks and whitewoods, lots of 
’em six feet through. When I came, as a 
boy, with my father, they still stood, the 
only clearing being the strip up where my 
garden is now. Father used to send me 
into the big timber in the evenings after 
the cows, and many times I ’ve been aw- 
fully scared. 

“The first job my father gave me to do 
124 


STUNTS AND HAROLD’S REWARD 


when we got to the old cabin was to shovel 
out several bushels of small, round stones 
like you see here on the beach. They were 
piled in every corner of the cabin. He 
told me then that this old man — Thomson 
was his name — had lost his mind some 
years before he died, and one of the foolish 
things that he believed was that he could 
at a certain season of the moon turn stones 
into gold. The Indians were afraid of him 
and thought he was a great ^medicine 
man.’ When I was a boy like Harold 
there, I remember a fellow that lived away 
over north of here — he ’s been dead now 
fifty years — that used to tell how Thom- 
son would stop him on the trail, and in a 
very mysterious way show him several 
stones he had in his pocket, and explain to 
him that they were just about ready to 
turn into nuggets. 

“They say that before he went crazy his 
wife left him, and the only companions he 
had were a couple of Indians that lived 
with him. They thought at one time that 
he must have left a lot of money hid some- 
where around the lake here, but most all 

125 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


the old-timers are gone now, and Thom- 
son has nearly been forgotten. 

‘‘They tell how the old man used to 
paddle around the lake in a canoe, day in 
and day out, without a stitch of clothing 
on, a great knife in his hand, looking for 
an immense sturgeon that the spirits told 
him inhabited the lake. This fish was to 
be his if he was just patient in hunting it, 
and when he captured it he was to find 
in its stomach a great fortune in pearls. 

“He dug a funny-looking hole in the 
island, and used to spend lots of his time 
there. Twice the neighbors found him 
roaming the woods in the middle of the 
night, carrying in each hand a lighted 
torch of fat pine. He declared he was 
hunting down evil spirts. He finally got 
to be a nuisance in the neighborhood, for 
he refused to clothe himself and often 
frightened folks badly at night. Imagine 
driving home from Three Rivers — that 
was the closest village in the early days, 
and the road ran all the way through dense 
forest. Imagine yourself on a load of sup- 
plies, night closing in around you, then 
126 


STUNTS AND HAROLD’S REWARD 


suddenly to hear a piercing shriek from 
somewhere in the timber, followed by 
moans and groans. It was always that 
old fellow somewhere in the woods, killing 
imaginary enemies and chasing evil spirits 
with shotgun and blazing torch. One fall 
the neighbors drove him from the country, 
and that spring his frozen body was found 
in the deep woods ten miles north of here. 
He claimed to know a secret passage from 
the lake to the St. Joe River, but I think 
it was just another of his notions. 

‘'When I was a young man, I remember 
one time a cow strayed from the herd I 
was driving, and wandered away into the 
timber south of here. When I was look- 
ing for her I came on to a saddle and bridle 
hung high in a tree. I brought them home, 
and a farmer that was an old-timer in these 
parts told me they had belonged to an 
Indian that had mysteriously disappeared 
from the Thomson place. He was a 
mighty strange old fellow, that ’s sure. 
Probably lost his mind over some crime 
he had committed, and had come into the 
great wilderness from the East to escape 
127 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


the law. There was a lot of such charac- 
ters in Southern Michigan in early days.'’ 

The fire had burned almost out, and the 
big harvest moon had risen out of the lake 
away to the other shore, making a golden 
pathway across the rippling waters. 

'‘Tell us another," begged Durbin, as he 
arose and kicked the last few embers to- 
gether. 

"No, boys; no more to-night," said Mr. 
George. "I must be gettin' home. It 
won't be long before it 's time for me to 
get up, and I have n't gone to bed yet." 
Then turning to Harold and "Love," he 
said, "Hope you boys won't be none the 
worse for your bath to-day." 

"Come again !" shouted the boys as the 
old gentleman disappeared in the dark- 
ness. 

"Thanks for the apples, Mr. George!" 
called Cooper. 

"Gee, ain't he swell?" said "Shrimp," as 
he rose and stretched his cramped legs. 

"And-a come on, kids, let 's turn some 
rocks into gold," remarked Bill as they 
moved down the beach toward the tents. 
128 


CHAPTER VIII 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 

I T was Sunday in camp, and the boys 
were making the most of the extra half- 
hour before breakfast by especially 
careful toilets. Clean shirts and khaki 
trousers were gotten out, hair was care- 
fully combed, and some of the more par- 
ticular fellows even went so far as to put 
on a necktie. The leaders were busy at 
their shaving when assembly rang out 
from the hill. There was a wild scramble 
from every direction, for assembly meant 
ten minutes till breakfast, and on Sunday 
morning breakfast was especially wel- 
comed. 

The order of the day was somewhat 
changed on Sundays. The regular detail 
was omitted, and likewise the morning de- 
votions, but a wide-awake morning serv- 
ice, at which time some visitor from the 
city would talk, was held at eleven o'clock. 
® 129 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Camp inspection was changed from one 
o’clock to nine, and was more rigid than 
on other days. Somewhere back in the 
seasons past a precedent had been estab- 
lished that on Sundays camp must be in 
perfect order, in so far as inspection could 
determine. So it was with the greatest of 
difficulty that the pennant was awarded 
for the best appearing tent. It was a com- 
mon thing to not be able to award it at 
all because of general excellence. Woe to 
the careless fellow in any tent who was 
the cause of his tent being rated low in 
Sunday inspection! 

There were no Sunday rules in camp. 
Each camper did anything that his con- 
science told him was proper for a Sunday, 
and this made it anything but a dull day. 
In the morning after inspection the fellows 
would read or sit around in groups chat- 
ting about the events of the coming week, 
or of the last baseball game, or the possi- 
bilities of winning a Rag before the next 
stunt night. Others wrote letters, for it 
was the custom that every boy write a let- 
ter home on Sunday. Sometimes this was 
130 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 


a very difficult task. At breakfast the 
“chief’ had warned them against writing 
home too brightly colored accounts of yes- 
terday’s accident, explaining that it would 
do no good, and only uselessly worry par- 
ents. He told the three boys most inter- 
ested that he had already written to their 
parents, giving them all the necessary de- 
tails, and that he would advise them to 
wait till they got home to tell the story. 

Bill Ruthford, Durbin, and the Twins 
were sitting in the library hard at work 
on their weekly letters home. “Portage” 
was giving an account of the wonders of 
water-ball. Vincent was making appli- 
cation for renewed funds. Durbin was 
proudly telling his fond mother how he 
had sunburned his shoulders until he could 
not sleep nights, and how he had broken 
the rowing record for one mile, single. 

Bill sat listlessly looking out of the win- 
dow, and tapping the table with his pen. 
Now and then he would read the three or 
four lines he had written, only to arrive at 
the same thought each time, namely: what 
else could he say. He had said he was 

131 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


well, the weather was fine, and he was 
having a great time. That was what he 
had said in every letter since he had come 
to camp. 

As he sat trying to think of just one 
more news item, a sheep walked slowly 
aross the field in front of the lodge. Sud- 
denly Bilks face brightened with an inspi- 
ration and he wrote hastily, “There is a 
beautiful sheep just now feeding on the 
tender grass in the field below.'’ He cau- 
tiously looked about to see if any one had 
seen him write that; then suddenly he 
snatched the sheet from the table, crum- 
pled it into a wad, and sailed it across the 
room. Vincent looked up in surprise. 

“What's the matter. Bill?" he asked. 

“O, gee, I have n't got a thing to write 
about. What are you writing about, any- 
way?" 

“O, I 'm just telling about the stunts 
last night, and about ‘Baldy' and the ball- 
game, and about old crazy Thomson, and 
about our trip to-morrow to dig up that 
Indian grave, and about Cooper getting 
his Rags, and — " 


132 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 


“And-a, O, yes, I nearly forgot all those 
things,’’ said Bill, as he took a second sheet 
of paper and began again. 

After a long and laborious attempt he 
asked “Portage” to let him read his letter, 
so he could get started again. 

“I ’m all right if I do n’t stop,” explained 
Bill, “but if I stop writing, all I can think 
of is the weather.” After he had read 
the letter he handed it back with the re- 
mark : 

“And-a, say, Tortage,’ you ’re a peach 
at letter writing. I could n’t write one like 
that in a hundred years. Say, I ’ll give 
you my reel if you ’ll let me copy yours. 
What do you say?” 

The bargain was made, and before long 
Bill Ruthford was posting the longest, 
newsiest letter that he had ever written. 

At eleven the fellows gathered in answer 
to the bugle-call and went in a body to a 
cool spot in the woods, where the morning 
service was held. The old graphophone 
was wound up and the favorite sacred mu- 
sic of the camp was played. Then came 
a splendid, wide-awake talk that was filled 

133 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


with excellent illustrations that just suited 
the occasion. 

‘‘Gee, that was the best preachin’ I ever 
heard,” declared “Love” on his way back 
to camp. 

Dinner was the next attractive event of 
the day, and was quite a social occasion. 
The chef loaded down each plate with such 
a variety of “good eats” that every boy 
was happy. One poor, unfortunate lad 
dropped his loaded tray, much to his em- 
barrassment, and was promptly teased 
nearly beyond endurance about “letting 
his chicken fly away.” Durbin did n’t 
care for his soup, so he traded it to a neigh- 
bor for one of his hot rolls. Studley, who 
was just a little under the weather, sold 
his ice-cream to Vincent, and Longley 
turned his delicious leg of fried chicken 
over to “Shrimp” for his sweet pickle. 
That promptly called down a shower of 
jokes about “what ’s the matter with a fel- 
low that ’s so crazy over sweet pickles.” 

“And-a did you smell that sweet letter 
he got yesterday?” questioned Bill. 

“No, but I saw him sitting off in the 

134 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 


woods this morning writing a young book 
to some one/’ 

‘'O, that was my diary,” answered 
Longley. 

‘'What did you put those two two-cent 
stamps on it for, then?” asked “Deak,” 
who had charge of the outgoing mail. 

Shortly after dinner a crowd of the fel- 
lows went with Mr. Verne to ramble in the 
big woods, and to gather flowers, and to 
name some trees — incidentally, of course, 
to feast on the rich, ripe dewberries that 
were so plentiful just then. 

Cooper and Dale went off together to 
find a few new birds, so that Dale could 
identify his required number. The assort- 
ment of books on the library shelves was 
thinned out, and every late magazine had 
mysteriously disappeared. In a short time 
the lodge and tents were deserted. 

‘T ’ve learned more about this great out- 
of-doors in two weeks than I ever knew in 
all my life before,” Cooper was saying to 
Dale as they sat on a big log far back in 
the woods and ate berries from a hatful of 
the fruit they had gathered. 

135 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


'T did n’t like it at first,” was Dale’s re- 
ply. 'Tt took so much time to do all the 
work.” 

“Yes, but do n’t you think it ’s fine, the 
spirit of 'help the other fellow’ that ’s in 
the camp? I believe that is why fellows 
out here have such a good time,” replied 
Cooper. 

“I never help the other fellow much, 
though,” said Dale. “It ’s too much 
trouble.” 

“That ’s why you are so unhappy and 
cross and cranky,” replied Cooper, not un- 
kindly. "Say, Dale, who do you believe is 
having the very best time of any one in 
this camp?” Dale thought a moment, 
then said, reluctantly, “Why, the Twins, 
I suppose. They are always laughing and 
joking, and are at least the most popular 
fellows.” 

“And the reason is that they have a 
good time making fun for the rest of us. 
They are unselfish to the core.” 

Dale dug his foot restlessly in the soft 
dirt. He was thinking. At last he raised 
his head and looked Cooper square in the 
eye. 136 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 


'‘Mr. Cooper, do you think I could ever 
be like those kids — I mean happy and help- 
ful and — and unselfish?'’ 

Cooper laughed his good-natured laugh 
and slapped Dale on the shoulder. 

“Why, of course you could, boy, just 
like them; but to do it you will have to 
forget absolutely that there is any Dale 
Worth. You know, after all, I think our 
religion is mostly just being happy and 
contented, and making other folks have a 
good time. You know when I get out 
here in these old woods I just feel so good 
that I want to make everybody else happy. 
You want to bury those frowns and those 
mean, sharp words, and get into the spirit 
of nature, then you will begin to live. 
When you feel like that you will have the 
best time in the world.” 

“I 've been thinking about it all day,” 
went on Dale, “that story we heard at the 
service this morning, about the old lady 
that always picked up all the broken glass 
she found in the streets and put it into 
her pocket, and when the policeman ques- 
tioned her about it she told him she did it 

137 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


just to keep the boys from cutting their 
bare feet. That was great, was n't it, 
'Coop?' I'll bet she was happy." Dale 
suddenly stood up, threw back his shoul- 
ders, and said: "Let's go back to camp. 
I want to look for some glass myself." 

At three the boats were released, and 
those who cared to were allowed to row 
around quietly until supper time. 

Longley and "Shrimp" set off to view 
their different birds' nests, for there were 
a great many that they were watching 
from day to day. 

"I wonder if the young king birds have 
flown yet," said "Shrimp." "I heard an 
awful commotion down by the cat-tails 
this morning before church. "I 'll bet my 
hat a turtle has been at that blackbird's 
nest." 

"We must n't tell about the bittern's 
nest yet, until the eggs hatch, because we 
want to see the little ones first," cautioned 
Longley. "It 's great, the way the mother 
tries to hide in the old, dead cat-tails, is n't 
it? She is just exactly the same color, and 
her long, slender neck is the same shape 
138 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 


as those dead reeds. Did you notice 

thatr 

It ’s too bad we missed that pair of 
loons. That would have been a real dis- 
covery for us, wouldn't it?" 

'‘We certainly have seen a lot of new 
things this year, have n't we ? If it was n't 
for our honor system we would n't care 
a cent for such things, would we?" 

So the hunt for new things went on, 
each day surrendering some new secret to 
the boys to add to their ever-increasing 
store of practical knowledge of nature. 

At supper time “Love" was late, and no 
one had seen him all the afternoon. They 
were just sitting down to supper, when in 
he came, panting and puffing. His face 
fell when he saw he was too late and had 
forfeited his meal. He held his hands 
cupped together, and went straight to Mr. 
Verne. 

“I'm so sorry I'm late. I never meant to 
be, but I found this bug or animal, I do n't 
know which, and I knew you would want 
to see it, so I stopped to try to find some- 
thing to bring it in." He cautiously 

139 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


opened his hands, giggling all the while. 
Something jumped out on to Mr. Verne’s 
potato salad. In a second there was a 
crowd around Mr. Verne. Everybody 
wanted to see the strange animal with 
long, slender feelers and claw-like legs. 
Mr. Verne turned a cup over him and sent 
the boys back to finish their suppers. He 
instructed ''Love” to wash his hands and 
get his supper. 

"What order is he in?” asked "Love” as 
he came back with his food. But no one 
seemed to be able to classify it until the 
"bug book” was gotten out and carefully 
examined. It turned out to be a mole- 
cricket and very rare, so "Love” added an- 
other name to his list of discoveries. 

Just at twilight all the campers assem- 
bled on the beach for the evening devo- 
tion. It was a time that was looked for- 
ward to by every one, partly because it 
was novel and partly because it was really 
enjoyed. The entire camp embarked in 
the boats and headed straight for the mid- 
dle of the lake. Here the bows were all 
tied together and all the boats pulled in 
140 


SUNDAY IN CAMP EBERHART 

like the spokes of a great wheel. Then 
the graphophone was wound up and the 
favorite records played, the boys joining 
in on the chorus of the more familiar 
songs. Then came the simple, straight- 
forward talk that was especially related to 
camp-life and drawn from some passage 
of the Bible. One night it was birds, an- 
other water, another stars. Out there on 
the calm, beautiful lake, the stars over- 
head, and good companions all around, 
many a fellow opened his heart and let in 
the great truths of the Christ. There was 
nothing weak or ''sissy’’ about it. It was 
just a strong, manly appeal for the better 
things in a boy’s life. Then, with a prayer 
to the Great All-Father, the little service 
was over and the boats returned to camp. 

"Sunday ’s the best day of all,” said 
Dale to Cooper as he got into bed. "I 
know where there ’s some glass, and I ’m 
going to get it first thing in the morning.” 


CHAPTER IX 

THE CLEVER TWINS 

S OME time in the night the wind 
changed to an on-shore breeze, and 
there came with it, as there always 
does, a whole host of black storm clouds. 
Consequently, when the camp awoke next 
morning, every boy’s mind filled with the 
expectancy of an all-day hike to dig In- 
dian mounds, they were disappointed to 
find a dark, drizzly morning. 

‘'Rain before seven, clear before eleven,” 
declared Durbin, emphatically. ‘T never 
yet saw it fail.” 

‘Tf there is such a thing as being able 
to dampen the spirits of a lot of healthy 
boys, this day ought to do it,” observed 
Jimmie Vanden, as he surveyed the foggy 
lake, the half-filled boats, and the dripping 
tent-flies before him. 

“Dampen their spirits nothing,” blithely 
challenged Vincent. “This is the best fish- 
142 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


ing-day we Ve had yet. O you string of 
bass!’’ and he danced up and down with 
sheer delight. 

“Can’t even play ball,” grumbled Leon- 
ard. “The diamond looks like a bowl of 
soup.” 

“Well, you ’d think ball was the only 
game on earth,” called Harold. “Let ’s 
have a war, or a fight, or a real rough 
house. Let ’s not stand around and just 
be sorry about it all day.” 

After breakfast a rousing fire was built 
in the great stone fireplace. The morning 
detail was quickly dispatched. Then the 
camp broke up into many small groups, 
each one occupying itself as it saw fit. 
The graphophone was pressed into service 
by those who chose to be by the fire. One 
group of fellows made kites according to 
the latest approved methods. Others 
played checkers, read books, or gathered 
in twos and threes to “swap lies.” 

About ten o’clock the sky darkened and 
the thunder rolled. Brilliant flashes of 
lightning lighted up the western sky. The 
fog cleared, and the lake became a stormy 
143 


THE three rivers KIDS 


green. The little whitecaps fairly raced 
across the water, only to be ceaselessly 
dashed up on to the beach in masses of 
foam. In less time than it takes to tell it 
the storm was on full blast. The wind 
howled angrily. The rain fell in torrents. 
As the storm increased, the fellows gath- 
ered on the broad veranda to watch it, for 
its great power was fascinating. Every 
boy stood intently watching the great 
trees bending and the tents shivering in 
the storm, expecting at any moment to see 
them torn from their moorings and blown 
into the lake. 

Vincent stepped over to Cooper and 
stood by his side for some minutes with- 
out speaking, then, — 

''Gee, she ’s got some pep, has n't she?" 
he remarked, by way of opening the con- 
versation. "That 's more than we 've 
got." 

"Let 's do something," added Harold. 
"Cooper, let 's start something quick, or 
I 'll explode. I 've been standing around 
all morning." 

"Let 's see the Twins wrestle," sug- 
144 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


gested Porter. The idea met with instant 
approval. In another moment the big 
dining-room was being cleared of chairs 
and tables. 

‘Tt ’s an awfully hard floor/’ suggested 
Cooper. '‘Better put on your sweater 
coats, then you won’t skin up your shoul- 
ders.” 

“O, rats!” exclaimed Vincent. "A little 
skinning is n’t going to hurt us.” 

A large ring was quickly formed and 
the Twins took the center. Harold, how- 
ever, did n’t just like the idea. He was not 
afraid, or anything like that, but it seemed 
to him like going back on old times, for 
ever since they had been old enough to 
fight at all they had always stuck together. 
What was one’s fight was always the 
other’s also. Now, to be opposing each 
other, just for the amusement of the 
crowd, seemed strange to him. 

"I’ll bet on Vincent,” called "Love,” 
from his place in the circle. 

"And I on Harold,” promptly returned 
"Shrimp.” 

Soon each camper had chosen his cham- 


THE three rivers KIDS 


pion, and under the supervision of Mr. 
Blaine the tussle began. The cook left his 
pan of potatoes and stood in the doorway 
to see the fun. The checker game was set 
hastily aside. Books were closed with a 
bang. Half-finished letters were slipped 
out of sight, and the entire camp joined the 
circle. 

The boys were evenly matched, and 
were, so far as the eye could tell, exactly 
of a size and shape. Both wore gray 
sweater coats and black tennis shoes, with- 
out stockings. Both had bushy, yellow 
hair, and both had sparkling blue eyes that 
fairly danced with life and good humor. 

They advanced, met each other, shook 
hands, and the tussle began. In the quick, 
catlike movements that followed, the 
crowd became confused. The ones that 
had been shouting for Vincent often 
shouted for Harold, not knowing the dif- 
ference, and Harold’s most ardent ad- 
mirers clapped their approval of his tac- 
tics, when it was really Vincent that had 
won their favor. The match was so even 
that after a few moments Mr. Blaine sep- 
146 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


arated them to rest, giving Harold the ad- 
vantage. 

‘‘Now, vv^hich one is which?’’ asked Dale 
of ''Shrimp” Warren. 

"The one standing by Mr. Blaine is Vin- 
cent,” said "Shrimp.” 

"Not on your life,” objected Longley. 
"That ’s Harold.” 

"Harold, nothing,” shouted Porter. 
"That ’s Vincent. I sleep right over him; 
I can tell by his slippers. They are worn 
through at the toes.” 

"And-a he ’s right,” said Bill. "I heard 
him say, Saturday, that his slippers were 
worn out.” 

"Well, gee, then I ’ve been yelling for 
the wrong man,” confided Studley. 

"You ought to do like I do,” said Stell- 
ner. "I yell one minute for one and the 
next minute for the other, and the one that 
really wins in the end is the one I thought 
was the best man all the while.” 

So the conversation went on while the 
Twins rested. 

The second tussle began, and the excite- 
ment rose to a high pitch when one Bot- 

147 


THE three rivers KIDS 


ting’s foot suddenly slipped and over he 
went, flat on his shoulders, the Rotting 
with the worn slippers on top. 

‘^Three cheers for Vincent!” shouted 
Porter. ‘^He ’s the winner.” The cheers 
followed, and they were lively ones. 

''Three cheers for Harold 1” shouted 
Longley. "He ’s the winner.” And again 
the shouts rang out. 

The Twins sat panting on the floor and 
wiped the perspiration from their faces. 
They had entered into the spirit of the 
competition, and while they would at any 
cost be loyal to each other and play abso- 
lutely on the square, for the sake of the 
prestige, however, they both wanted to 
win, and had gone into the match to 
win. 

"I knew something was the matter with 
me,” panted Harold. "Now I know what 
it is. You have on my slippers.” 

"Slippers do n’t make any difference,” 
laughed Vincent. 

"They don’t, eh? Well, that’s what 
made me fall just then. Yours are too big 
for me.” 


148 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


''All right/’ consented Vincent. "Let ’s 
both take them off for the last fall. What 
do you say? We each have one advantage 
now.” Harold agreed, and the last tussle 
began. 

"And-a which is which, anyway?” ques- 
tioned Bill of his neighbor. 

"You got me,” replied Studley. "I can’t 
tell now till they put on their shoes again. 
I ’m always getting them mixed up some 
way.” 

The last match was a long and exceed- 
ingly well-contested one, but finally one 
Botting, by a clever feint, secured the fate- 
ful "half Nelson,” and in another instant 
his opponent was pinned helplessly on his 
shoulders. The boys shouted their ap- 
proval, and the Twins pulled on their slip- 
pers. 

"See, I told you it was Vincent that 
won,” said Porter, pointing to the slippers 
with the worn-out toes. Bill shook his 
head doubtfully. 

"And-a I ’m glad he did — are n’t you? — 
’cause he worked the hardest.” 

"Well, old boy, you certainly are some 
149 


THE three rivers KIDS 


wrestler/’ said Cooper to Harold as the 
group passed out on to the porch again. 

''Why — did Harold win?” asked Por- 
ter in surprise. 

"Sure I did,” replied Harold. 

"But it was Vincent’s shoes that were 
worn out at the toes — ” 

"You sap-heads!” laughed Harold. "He 
had on my shoes when we began, but now 
I have on my own.” Porter looked from 
one to the other. "Well, I ’ll be jiggered,” 
was all he said. 

A small group had gathered around 
Durbin, and they were earnestly talking 
over some scheme, which, from the sup- 
pressed laughter, seemed to please them 
greatly. 

"It ’s Vincent with the bad shoes,” Dur- 
bin was saying. 

" ’Cause I heard Porter say so, and he 
sleeps in the bunk just above him.” 

"All right,” called "Shrimp.” "I ’ll get 
the scissors, but be careful.” In a second 
he returned and handed them to Durbin. 
They all moved toward Harold, then Dur- 
bin reached and grabbed him from behind. 
ISO 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


‘'Now, Vincent, old boy, we Ve got you, 
and we Te going to mark you so we ’ll 
know after this who you are.” Harold 
struggled to free himself, but to no 
avail. 

“I ’m not Vincent, I ’m Harold,” he 
cried. “You fellows are crazy.” 

“O, yes, you rascal, you ’ve stuffed us 
long enough, and you can’t fool us now. 
Vincent you are, and Vincent you ’re go- 
ing to be hereafter,” declared Durbin, 
whereupon he began to cut big chunks 
from the back of Harold’s yellow hair; not 
enough to do any harm, but enough to be 
plainly seen. 

Vincent missed the performance, for he 
had gone to the pump for a drink, and re- 
turned just in time to see the job com- 
pleted. 

“And-a you can’t fool us any more,” 
laughed Bill. “Vincent is the one with the 
hair cut, and Harold is the one without it 
cut,” and he laughed at their clever 
method of branding the Twins. 

Harold gave Vincent a sly little wink, 
and just as soon as the Twins could get a 

151 


THE three rivers KIDS 


word together, they arranged for a secret 
meeting. 

The camp made the very most of its 
newly-acquired information by finding 
every occasion to call the Dotting with the 
trimmed hair Vincent, just to prove they 
knew which was which at last. 

When mess was called that evening, the 
Twins made their appearance together; a 
broad grin was on their faces, their arms 
were interlocked, and they were keeping 
step. Instead of falling into line, as was 
the custom, they slowly marched down 
the entire length of the line-up, a little to 
one side, then back to their places, without 
so much as a word. They evidently were 
on dress parade. What was the conster- 
nation of the crowd when they saw what 
had been done. The untrimmed Dotting 
had become trimmed, and so cleverly was 
the job done that it was again impossible 
to tell which was which. Instinctively 
all eyes fell to the shoes, but the Twins 
were too smart for them, for each boy wore 
one good and one bad shoe. The decep- 
tion was complete. 

152 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


At last, not knowing what to say, but 
wishing to be equal to the occasion, Dur- 
bin stepped from line and proposed three 
'‘dummy rahs’' for the Twins. Every 
camper doubled up his fists and with awful 
faces went through the motions of three 
rousing cheers without as much as utter- 
ing a sound. The result was all that could 
be desired. Everybody laughed, and again 
the Twins were acknowledged the win- 
ners. 

It was too wet outside for the usual 
evening camp-fire, so the evening was 
spent around the open grate discussing 
plans for the greatest day in Camp Eber- 
hart — July Fourth. 

"It ’s only a little over a week off,’’ the 
"chief” was saying, "and we want to have 
the very best day ever. You know we have 
a beautiful new American flag that was 
presented to us on Christmas, and I just 
want to propose to you that we have a 
new flagpole to fly it from.” 

"That ’s the eye.” 

"You bet, we want a high one.” 

"I want to suggest further, fellows,” 

153 


THE three rivers KIDS 


continued the ''chief/’ "that we get up 
early on the Fourth, dig our hole, and raise 
our new flag-pole before breakfast. We 
are planning to have Mr. Eldred with us 
for our Independence address, and we ’ll 
have it before breakfast, in the cool of the 
morning, just as soon as the new pole is 
up and the flag flying.” 

"Great!” shouted the crowd. 

"Where do you think the flagstaff ought 
to stand?” questioned the "chief.” 

"On the point beyond the locker house,” 
said Durbin. 

"That ’s the place,” shouted half a dozen 
others. So it was decided, and Mr. George 
was authorized to secure and bring in the 
desired pole. 

"O, Mr. Blaine! tell us what the athletic 
events for that day will be,” called Mr. 
Verne. 

"Well,” replied Mr. Blaine, "first of all 
we want to build a dozen good water pyra- 
mids. We want to get busy on them very 
soon. Then we will have swimming races 
for time and form, plain and fancy diving, 
all kinds of races in boats, tubs, and in 

154 


THE clever twins 


the water. Then, of course, we will want 
to give our visitors an exhibition on the 
chute-the-chutes. The final stunt will be 
a series of tilting matches in the boats. 
That will take all the afternoon. We will, 
of course, have our baseball game in the 
morning, and with your minstrel show 
and the display of fireworks in the even- 
ing, I think we ’ll all be ready for bed 
by night.” 

The program as outlined created no 
little interest, and furnished something 
definite to think, talk, and speculate about 
for the next week. 

‘‘What day will we have our hike this 
week?” asked Vincent. For if there was 
any one thing that he loved more than an- 
other in the camp-life, it was rambling in 
the woods a half day, then building a fire 
and cooking a real camp dinner. 

“If it is a nice day we will go on Thurs- 
day. We ’ll go to the same place we 
planned to go to to-day, and we ’ll dig up 
that Indian grave. 

“Hurrah!” shouted the crowd. 

“Say, do you really believe that ’s an 

155 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Indian mound?’’ questioned ^‘Shrimp.” 
think it ’s a fake.” 

“Fake nothing,” sharply answered Vin- 
cent. “This country ’s full of Indian 
mounds. There ’s dozens of them. Why, 
only last spring a fellow over at Long 
Lake, and that ’s only two miles away, 
plowed up a mound and found thirteen 
skeletons, arrow-heads, stone axes, and all 
kinds of things.” 

“Is that so?” said a dozen in the same 
breath, and in another moment the con- 
versation had changed from July Fourth 
to Indian mounds. Many were the 
strange tales told around the fire that 
evening. 

“What did he do with the skeletons?” 
asked “Love,” between chattering teeth. 

“O, that was a funny thing,” replied 
Vincent. “The thirteenth one that he 
plowed up had an arrow still sticking 
through the ribs, just where the heart had 
been, and the old fellow dreamed it was 
bad luck, so he buried them all again.” 

“Mr. George says that he has heard 
there is lots of buried Indian stuff around 

156 


THE CLEVER TWINS 

here, though,’’ said Harold. “The place 
we are going to dig is supposed to be an 
old battlefield.” 

“What battle?” eagerly inquired 
“Love.” 

“O well, I can’t tell just which one,” 
went on Harold, “but it was one the Pot- 
tawatomies had with the Iroquois. You 
see the Pottawatomie braves went out on 
a big hunt, and while they were gone the 
Iroquois, who were the greatest enemies 
of the Indians in these parts, slipped into 
the Pottawatomie camp and stole all the 
women and children. They hurried back 
toward the Canada line with them, so as 
not to be bothered with them when the 
big fight came. You see they were plan- 
ning to get back to the Pottawatomie 
camp before the braves returned from the 
hunt. But there was one little girl they 
did n’t get, because she was out gathering 
wild rice in the swamp. When she heard 
the war-cry she hurried home, but at the 
edge of the cat-tails she saw the Iroquois 
tying and gagging all the women of her 
tribe, so she slipped back into the cat-tails. 

157 


THE three rivers kids 


The Iroquois had only been gone a few 
hours when the Pottawatomie braves re- 
turned unexpectedly. The girl explained 
what had happened. The braves hurried 
to their canoes and paddled up the St. Joe 
to Elkhart, then north on the trail to head 
off the ffying Iroquois and to rescue their 
women. They reached this lake first, and, 
ambushing themselves, waited for their 
enemy. A terrific battle followed, in 
which the Iroquois were nearly all killed. 
Those that escaped were followed up by 
fast runners, and killed, one at a time. 
Now, somewhere around Harwood Lake 
is where all those Iroquois are buried, and 
we want to find them.’’ 

'‘Vincent, tell us that story about that 
old crazy Indian trader you said you read 
in a State History over at Mr. George’s 
the other day,” called Durbin. “Did n’t it 
have something to do with Corey Lake?” 

“Do you suppose it could possibly be 
the same old hermit that Mr. George told 
us about at the camp-fire the other even- 
ing, Chief?” asked Porter. 

“To tell you the truth, fellows, I 

158 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


have n’t had time to read that article yet 
myself, but I propose to do it very soon, 
and then talk with Mr. George about it. 
I Ve heard a number of interesting stories 
about that old man, and I want to know 
more.” 

'Xet ’s read it now,” urged Cooper, who 
had become much interested in the article 
from what Vincent had been telling them 
as they sat by the fire. 

“That ’s a go,” called half a dozen others 
who had heard the matter discussed the 
day before. “Let ’s read it out loud now.” 

“You bet, we need a good story to sleep 
on,” declared Harold. 

The chief liked the suggestion, so went 
to his office to procure the big leather 
volume. 

Soon the place was found, and all drew 
in close to hear the better. 

Sau-au-quett Sells Corey Lake Region to 
Uncle Sam 

“It was the day of the Tig payment,’ 
and Sau-au-quett had made a very hurried 
trip up from the village of St. Joe to see 

159 


THE three rivers KIDS 


to it that his crafty schemes were carried 
out as he had planned them. 

'' T have sold this land ! And I would 
sell it again for two gallons of whisky!’ 
cried he as he rode into the midst of the 
Indian council. When well into the great 
circle of squatting figures he reined in his 
horse, and with a long sweep of his arm 
he unsheathed the ugly saber that hung 
at his side, waving it threateningly in the 
air. Then he sat staring coldly at the 
stolid faces about him, as if to determine 
whether any one would dare to oppose 
him in his deal. The violent throbs of his 
own heart were keeping time with those 
of his excited pony. 

'‘He was not the thoroughbred Potta- 
watomie that he would have you believe 
him to be, for his father had been no other 
than that famous Pierre Morreau, the 
Frenchman, who many years before, by 
cunning strategy and by taking advantage 
of the superstitions of the red men, had 
succeeded in getting a large part of the 
tribe to renounce Cush-ee-wee, their he- 
reditary sachem, and to install him as 
i6o 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


Big Chief of the Nottawas. He soon mar- 
ried an Indian maiden, and for many years 
ruled his tribe wisely and well. When 
Sau-au-quett, his oldest son, came into 
man^s estate he took over the leadership 
of the people. 

^'Sau-au-quett was a striking figure as he 
sat on his nervous pinto pony with an ease 
and grace learned only from years of con- 
stant riding. Hatred and vengeance were 
stamped on his handsome face. A cun- 
ning and crafty twinkle was in his eye. 
He had dressed especially for this occa- 
sion; a blue military coat two sizes large, 
its polished brass buttons glistening in 
the sunlight; an immense chapeau with a 
tall, white plume fastened to the side, the 
sheath of his cavalry saber hung carelessly 
at his hip, and a pair of immense pistols 
in his belt. 

"The general cession of Indian lands 
had been made at Chicago in 1821, but 
there had been many special reservations 
made to the Indians at that time, one of 
the most notable of which was the Not- 
tawa-seepe Prairie, a rich, fertile section 
“ 161 


THE three rivers KIDS 


of Southern Michigan, embracing the 
beautiful lake districts of St. Joseph 
County. Following the Black Hawk War, 
the Government had negotiated with the 
Pottawatomies for the cession of the Not- 
tawa-seepe Reservation, along with other 
important Indian lands in Indiana and 
Illinois. But it was not until the death 
of the real chieftain, Cush-ee-wee, in 1883, 
that the Government was able to get such 
a treaty signed by the Indians, and then 
only by buying off the conquering Sau-au- 
quett and his band of supporters. 

''The treaty plainly stated that the In- 
dians were to have possession of the res- 
ervation undisturbed for two years fol- 
lowing the signing. At the end of this 
time they were to receive the first 'big pay- 
ment’ of ten thousand dollars’ worth of 
calico, beads, and trinkets, and be removed 
to ample hunting grounds west of the 
Mississippi River. 

"The day of the 'big payment’ came, but 
meanwhile the other faction of the tribe, 
influenced by the powerful Sac chief- 
tain, Menomonee, had concluded that the 
162 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


treaty was not binding because Sau-au- 
quett and his followers had had no lawful 
right to sell the land without the consent 
of the whole tribe. 

“For more than a week the Indians had 
been coming from every direction, pitch- 
ing their wigwams along the St. Joe River 
and spending much time in admiring the 
gaudy finery, blankets, saddles, bridles, 
and antiquated guns which were displayed 
by the Government agents as a part of 
the Tig payment.’ For days the council 
had met and parleyed from sunrise to sun- 
set, but without success. The Indians 
were becoming each day more interested 
in the barter of their choice furs and blan- 
kets for the cheap whisky that unprinci- 
pled white men were ready and willing to 
trade them. 

“Council after council had been held. 
Feast after feast had been indulged in. 
The Indian agents, Patrick Maranette and 
Pierre Navarre, had argued, debated, and 
even pleaded with the red men that they 
keep their word to the Government as in- 
dicated in the treaty. But to no avail. 

163 


THE three rivers KIDS 


The more whisky they were able to secure, 
the more determined became the opposi- 
tion, except among Sau-au-quett’s follow- 
ers. 

''In the heat of the discussion, and on 
the morning set for the delivery of the 
'big payment,’ came Sau-au-quett in all his 
splendor. He rode pell-mell into the 
midst of the council, unsheathing his long 
saber and shouting as he did so: 

"'I have sold this land! And I would 
sell it again for two gallons of whisky 1’ 

"A French interpreter, whom Chief Me- 
nomonee had persuaded to aid him at the 
council, seeing the great influence that 
Sau-au-quett was sure to have upon the 
undecided portion of the tribe, stepped 
boldly forth and addressed the would-be 
chieftain thus: 

" 'You miserable half-breed, eldest son 
of my despised brother, who forsook his 
home and married a squaw — ’ 

"He got no further, for Sau-au-quett 
had struck him down with the long saber, 
nearly dismembering his extended arm. 

164 


THE clever twins 


No doubt Sau-au-quett would have killed 
the Frenchman, had it not been for the 
quick action of Quau-sett — the Duck 
Wing, brother to the hereditary sachem. 
Quick as lightning he snatched one of the 
heavy pistols from Sau-au-quett's belt and 
fired full at him. But the ancient weapon 
missed fire, and in another instant Sau-au- 
quett turned and struck Quau-sett a ter- 
rific blow just above the shoulder, doubt- 
less aiming to sever his head. The cruel 
saber pierced the heavy blanket, but was 
turned aside from its deadly course by a 
huge plug of tobacco concealed in Quau- 
sett’s blanket. Sau-au-quett was disarmed 
from behind, and Quau-sett was hurried 
away to a place of safety. 

‘‘The council was once more resumed. 
For the last time the opposing forces 
stated their cause. The mighty chieftain 
stood, his arms extended, there in one of 
the grandest woodland theaters on the 
earth — one that had been fashioned, fin- 
ished, and furnished by the hands of the 
Great Spirit Himself for His children — 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


and pleaded for his people. A great si- 
lence fell on the assembled Indians as he 
began to speak. 

'‘ ‘Members of this Council: The great 
White Chief does not know the truth. 
He, like me, has been fooled. He does not 
know that his messengers have made my 
young chiefs drunk, obtained their con- 
sent, and pretended to have mine, to give 
up our country. He does not know that I 
refused and still refuse to sell these lands. 
He would not by force drive me and my 
people from my home and from the graves 
of my tribe and of my children who have 
gone to the Great Spirit, nor allow you 
to tell me that your braves will take me 
away tied like a wolf, if he knew the truth. 
My brothers, your White Chief is just, but 
he listens to the voices of young chiefs, 
and they have lied. I have not sold these 
lands. I will not sell them. I have not 
signed a treaty, and I will not sign one. 
I am not going away to the land beyond 
the Great River, and I do n’t want to hear 
anything more about it.’ 

“Slowly he sat down, and Sau-au-quett 
1 66 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


took his place before the council. In 
words of fire he described the promised 
hunting ground beyond the Great River 
and told marvelous stories of the wealth 
of the ‘Great White Chief and of the 
riches he would bestow upon them, declar- 
ing that the ten thousand dollars’ worth 
of goods then on display by the agents 
was but a sample of what was to follow. 
He closed his heated argument with a 
promise that every brave who that day 
stood by the treaty should have not only 
his share of the goods and a boundless new 
home, but should also have his fill of the 
‘fire-water’ that was even then on board 
the two great barges lying at anchor on 
the river. His words were so convincing 
that soon the great piles of guns and 
hatchets, blankets, calico, knives, tobacco, 
pipes, beads, and copper trinkets were 
being distributed under the supervision 
of Maranett and Navarre, assisted by 
Governor Porter himself. 

“At the first signs of an agreement by 
the council the great barges were drawn 
in close to shore, and under the direction 
167 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


of one named Hesikia Thomson literally 
scores of barrels of whisky and rum were 
landed. 

‘^Soon very lively trading was in prog- 
ress; the whites cheating the Indians out 
of great quantities of their goods from the 
Tig payment/ giving them in return the 
cheapest of whisky. Quau-sett presented 
Sau-au-quett with a fine, large demijohn 
of rye. Accordingly their peace was de- 
clared and promptly celebrated by a spree. 
Quau-sett, who had had some previous 
dealings with the man Thomson, now be- 
came his Indian agent, aiding him, even in 
his half-drunken condition, to cheat every 
Indian out of as much as possible of his 
share of the goods. The Government had 
given strict orders that no 'fire-water' 
should be allowed on the grounds the day 
of the settlement. Accordingly Mr. Mara- 
nett and Pierre Navarre gathered what 
help they could, and swooped down on the 
kegs of 'fire-water,' ordering the owners 
to cease its sale immediately 'by order of 
the United States Government.' The 
traders refused to obey the orders, where- 
i68 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


upon the agents attacked the kegs with 
axes, succeeding in knocking in the heads 
of most of them. The whisky was pour- 
ing out in streams upon the river bank. 
The Indians were so wild for it that they 
lay upon their stomachs and lapped it up 
from the dirt, much to the disgust of the 
agents. 

^‘Hesikia Thomson, however, while he 
had lost a large share of his whisky, had 
already secured the more valuable part of 
the payment goods, and had removed 
them to the river barges. Then with 
Quau-sett, his squaw, and several other 
Indians, he drifted down the river and was 
gone before the agents or the governor 
could get to his arrest and disposal. 

‘^Although Sau-au-quett and Quau-sett 
had declared peace, Sau-au-quett’s favor- 
ite squaw, who had been an eye-witness 
to the whole day’s proceedings, swore 
vengeance on Quau-sett, and at once set 
about to lay her plans. Quau-sett and his 
squaw accompanied Thomson as far as 
Corey Lake, and there withdrew into the 
wilderness. Here Thomson, who had a 
169 


THE three rivers KIDS 


few months before married the daughter 
of a very queer old settler, homesteaded 
a farm on a beautiful piece of heavily tim- 
bered land, clearing just enough of it for 
a small garden, orchard, and room for a 
small log house. Quau-sett became inter- 
preter for Thomson, and soon a trading 
post was opened for the Indians. For, 
although the treaty had been agreed upon 
and signed, after the entire first payment 
was received by the Indians they swung 
back to the old chief and refused to leave 
the land. It was seven years later when 
they were forcibly removed by United 
States soldiers, but not before many an 
old score on settler and Indian had been 
settled. 

‘'Two years after the ‘big payment’ 
Sau-au-quett’s squaw, under a pretext of 
friendship, visited Quau-sett at the Thom- 
son place on Corey Lake. Her intention 
was to kill Duck Wing for his attempt on 
her husband’s life, but as no occasion pre- 
sented itself she took vengeance by stab- 
bing Quau-sett’s squaw to death with a 
sheath-knife she had secured at the ‘big 
170 


THE CLEVER TWINS 


payment.’ She then went stealthily back 
to her home near Coldwater and presented 
her husband with the bloody knife, telling 
him of her deed. Sau-au-quett was greatly 
pleased, and carried the knife until the 
time of his death, always declaring it was 
his sure luck against ‘white man’s evil.’ 

“But in 1839 Sau-au-quett himself was 
murdered in Coldwater, supposedly by 
one of his own tribe who had opposed the 
sale of the Nottawa-seepe lands from the 
very beginning. The old chief was sleep- 
ing in his wigwam when the enemy crept 
stealthily in to his bedside, drew from 
Sau-au-quett’s girdle his famous sheath- 
knife, and drove it up to the handle into 
the old half-breed’s bosom. The chief 
sprang to his feet, gave one whoop, and 
fell dead. In some mysterious manner 
Thomson, ‘the crazy paleface of the lakes,’ 
as he was afterward known among the 
Indians, secured Sau-au-quett’s famous 
knife and guns. Tradition even whispered 
that Thomson had hired the murderer 
of Sau-au-quett in order to get possession 
of a certain packet of papers that that 
171 


THE three rivers KIDS 


Indian was taking from Coldwater to the 
governor of the Northwest Territory. 
At least the papers were never again heard 
of after the mysterious murder. Tradi- 
tion also whispered that the murderer was 
none other than Quau-sett himself. This 
supposition was afterward made more 
substantial by the fact that Quau-sett, the 
Duck Wing, soon after disappeared from 
the Thomson neighborhood, and was 
never heard of again. At about the same 
time Hesikia’s wife left him and returned 
to her father, then living in the village of 
Mendon. The same winter Thomson was 
found wandering in the dense woods hope- 
lessly insane, and remained so until his 
tragic death by freezing, several years 
later.’’ 

‘T ’ll bet it ’s the same fellow,” said 
Cooper. '‘Would n’t it be funny if he 
was?” 

The chief closed the book with a slam 
and turned thoughtfully away. 'T 
would n’t be surprised,” he said, "but 
we ’ll probably never know.” 

172 


they would enjoy this hike as much as any of us. 






t*^ ■} 


•« . ?i\ .p * ' 

Jl •“ _J A"* 


ns-.-'- ■'’^il’ '.■' "i#.v 

. i«l®f ■ ■ ■; . '%1 

' ‘ a '"■■ 

> ; 25'.'. • , i.-v. ! : *r' y *' -''iT^i 'i'- 

* ■ Ww X ■ •-« •- i , .1 





' V , .'.il 

• » «« 


*>' • 


. -• 

^ »V , 






V ' ■ ' ^ 

• • - .♦. 

! v-i 

. 'j^. ■*' ti 









t/. ;v ... V 


■ t' 


I'V 




■ '■--It 


H 




CHAPTER X 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 

I WONDER what the Iroquois would 
think if they could see this bunch 
hiking along through the woods,” 
chuckled Harold, who was helping carry 
a bushel basket piled high with things for 
the dinner. 

they would enjoy this hike as much 
as we will,” replied Dale, as he put down 
his end of the basket. ‘'Only, of course, 
they would know a lot more about cooking 
over an open fire than any of us.” 

“Well, I guess so,” replied Harold. 
“Why, any Indian could cook a loaf of 
bread on a green paddle just by holding 
the dough in the hot ashes. But there 
are n't twenty-five fellows in this bunch 
that have ever cooked a real camp meal, 
let alone make bread. I 'll bet we 'll have 
a circus watching some of them at noon, 
for you know the ‘chief and the leaders 

173 


THE three rivers KIDS 


are n’t even going to make any sugges- 
tions, and the fellow that gets the best 
meal, all things considered, is going to 
get a prize.” 

‘'Gee, I ’d like to win it,” confided Har- 
old to Vincent. ‘T wish he ’d let two of 
us work together, do n’t you ?” 

“Longley ’s a peach at cooking on the 
fire,” suggested Vincent. “He belongs to 
a club of fellows that cook their supper out 
once a week. He said they had made 
oyster-stew and cornbread and baked eggs 
and — ” 

“O, rats ! I ’ll get enough to eat, any- 
way,” said Dale, and the subject was dis- 
missed as the basket was again moved 
forward. 

The long line of fellows made a small 
army as they trudged along the lake road, 
in and out among the great oaks, stopping 
now and then to pick a handful of berries 
or to change the load to some of the other 
fellows. 

After an hour’s steady walking they 
turned in through an ancient gate, left 
the lake behind, and worked their way into 

174 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 

an immense open meadow with low, 
heavily-wooded hills surrounding it. 
When well into the meadow, the baskets 
were put down and the entire party lined 
up for dinner instructions. 

“You are each to cook a fresh egg, a 
piece of meat, and two potatoes,'’ in- 
structed the “chief." “Each boy is to se- 
lect his own wood and bring it to a place 
that will be assigned him, build a fire that 
is his* idea of a camp cooking fire, and cook 
each article any way he chooses. The con- 
test will not depend on how well you cook 
any one thing, but upon the best average 
meal. The leaders will prepare a special 
fire and make coffee for all, and when the 
dinners are cooked, the sandwiches will 
be issued." 

There Avas a wild scramble for wood, 
suitable flat stones, the proper clay, and 
such other things as would be needed. 
Dale had the good fortune to find two ex- 
cellent tin-cans and promptly handed one 
over to Vincent. Wood of every size and 
of every description was carried to the al- 
lotted spots. Some carried in stones, with 

175 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


which to build fireplaces — just for what 
use, they did n’t know. Others dug holes 
in the ground and built their fires in them. 
Some refused to burn anything but choice 
sassafras, while others were perfectly con- 
tent with dead, half-rotten, water-soaked 
wood, dry brush, or chips. 

After an hour of planning and prepar- 
ing, several boys lighted their fires, or 
rather attempted to, with the two matches 
allowed them. Dale was one of the first 
to get a rousing blaze — one big enough to 
cook dinner over for a whole regiment — 
but it was his first attempt, and how was 
he to know? He determined to cook his 
egg first. By that time the other fellows 
would be started on their meat, and he 
would learn by watching them, just how 
to do it. He had seen his aunt boil eggs 
many a time, and he had a nice, clean can 
to boil his in now. It would be a simple 
matter, for while the others were impro- 
vising ways of cooking their eggs, his 
would be boiling away with no trouble 
at all. 

A pail of fresh water had been brought 
176 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 


from the spring in the swamp. He filled 
his can, dropped his egg into it, and after 
scorching both eyebrows, burning his 
right hand, and nearly setting his clothes 
on fire, he succeeded in placing the can 
very insecurely in the blaze. He had pur- 
posely chosen a place near the Twins, so 
he could watch them, for he was anxious 
to learn. 

Vincent and Harold busied themselves 
in silence, each carefully observing what 
the other did. Both their fires were very 
small and very carefully arranged. At 
one side of each blaze lay a neat little pile 
of carefully selected sticks as a reserve. 
Harold had secured a lump of good clay, 
and after working it smooth and picking 
all the little stones and sticks from it, he 
removed the ends from his potatoes, then 
covered them with a good coat of the clay, 
taking care to leave a tiny hole over the 
cut ends in order to allow the steam to 
escape. This would keep the potatoes 
from exploding. He then deftly raked 
away his ashes and placed the potatoes in 
the bottom of the fire, covering them with 


THE three rivers KIDS 


selected hickory sticks. Next he cleaned 
his flat stone by rubbing its surface well 
with gravel. When its condition suited 
him he placed it in the fire to warm, turn- 
ing it now and then to distribute the heat 
so that it would not crack. When it was 
warmed through he propped it up on three 
other stones as legs, and fed his choicest 
sticks into the fire to heat it. Dale 
watched with unconcealed admiration, en- 
tirely forgetting his own fire. As he stood 
watching the Twins, suddenly there was 
a sputtering, a spitting, and a column of 
smoky steam behind him. He turned to 
see the water running out of the bottom 
of the now blackened can, for the solder 
had melted and released bottom, egg, and 
water into the fire. The egg probably 
would have been burned to a crisp, had it 
not been for the prompt action of Vincent, 
who, picking up a handful of green leaves, 
snatched the egg from the fire and deftly 
handed it to the astonished Dale, who in- 
stantly dropped it, and thereby ruined it. 
Vincent was disgusted beyond measure, 
but said nothing. 


178 






1 

F^B * 

1 ^ 







he air was blue with synoke. 









•'^k "9 * BKf -^VIBritf^S^MKr v^JnJ 


• i' 


.•>M, 





■• rJix?'*- j:®t‘^‘ ■ -vy-'H 



vV'k* 


i ^ I .A ‘:'-:>'^.- 




• r ^"■* ■ -■'* 


ii*‘ 1^ 


' ,‘J';’_5*Lkvy'' • ■ ■ 




■•> - ' 


?>. 

- 'Wh 


H' ' » 

’* 







VlL^J 


" :■ '* i>i- 



♦ »\Jw\ 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 


He had already dropped into his fire a 
number of carefully selected stones and 
was turning them over and over with a 
pair of tongs he had made by bending to- 
gether a green hickory limb. Longley 
had long since had his meat frying on a 
flat stone, and was keeping the hot ashes 
over his clay-encrusted potatoes. 

The air was blue with smoke, and fel- 
lows were coughing and sneezing all 
along the line, not knowing enough to 
stay on the smokeless side of their fires. 

Bill Ruthford was doing nicely. He had 
built an excellent fire, his flat stone was 
getting hot, and he was ready to attempt 
to fry his egg on it. 

Vincent had cleaned his tin-can and 
placed the necessary water in it and the 
egg. He then fished his hot stones from 
the fire with his tongs, and dropped them 
carefully, one at a time, into the can. In 
a short time the water was boiling. He 
thus cooked the egg without placing can 
or egg near the fire. His meat, which he 
had chosen to broil on the end of a forked 
stick rather than on a flat stone, was al- 
179 


THE three rivers KIDS 


ready turning to a beautiful brown. He 
was about ready to pull out his potatoes, 
which he had encrusted with clay and 
placed in the hot ashes, but after testing 
one with a sharp stick he decided to wait, 
as it was a little hard yet. 

Harold had wrapped his egg in many 
thicknesses of hickory leaves, tying them 
on with long strips of hickory bark. He 
then wet the little bundle thoroughly, and 
placed it in the ashes to steam. 

“And-a my egg slipped right off into the 
fire,’’ complained Bill to Mr. Cooper, who 
immediately gave him another and told 
him to try again. 

Longley, who had profited by Bill’s mis- 
take, did not release all of the egg on to 
the flat stone at once, but let out only 
a tiny bit from the broken shell until it 
had fried and made something for the rest 
to gather about. 

“Shrimp” Warren had had bad luck 
with his stones, for by some queer freak 
of nature they had, when they became 
hot, suddenly exploded, scattering his 
i8o 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 


dinner over a space of twenty feet, much 
to his disgust. 

Needless to say, there were some boys 
who could not eat the food they had 
cooked, so were delighted when their turn 
came in the sandwich line and at the coffee 
pot. 

The leaders helped here and examined 
there, and after due consideration they 
decided that, though Longley and the 
Twins had each one employed different 
methods of cooking, they had all done ex- 
ceedingly well and should be considered 
as equal winners. 

There was not a boy present but that 
wished to try the thing over on their next 
hike, so that they could practice the things 
they had learned. 

‘'That ’s the best dinner I ’ve had since 
I Ve been in camp,’’ declared Harold, and 
Vincent promptly seconded the motion. 

After dinner they began the digging of 
the mysterious Indian mound. After a 
great deal of speculation it was decided to 
dig two trenches, intersecting at right 
i8i 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


angles, through the mounds. There were 
many willing hands at the start, and in a 
short time an opening was under way. 
Those who did not care to dig sat by and 
offered many suggestions. 

“No use being careful till we are down 
three feet at least,’’ explained Vincent be- 
tween shovelfuls. 

“O, three feet nothing,” ejaculated 
Leonard. “Four feet is the regulation 
depth of Indian graves. 

When one trench was three feet deep, 
and the color of the dirt suddenly changed 
from brown to white, the interest became 
intense. 

“They always bury them in white sand,” 
affirmed Durbin. “And when they did n’t 
naturally strike it, they made rush-mats 
and carried it sometimes from long dis- 
tances.’'’ 

“Gee, I ’d like to strike a skull,” said 
Harold, pausing to wipe away the perspi- 
ration. 

“Old Thomson had one on each end of 
his mantel over in the old cabin,” stated 
182 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 


‘‘Shrimp.” “Mr. George told a fellow that 
told me. And he used one of them to 
keep his money in, because he knew the. 
Indians would n’t dare touch it there, they 
were too superstitious.” 

“That Thomson was a funny old duffer, 
wasn’t he?” remarked Dale, from his 
perch on the pile of dirt, anxious to get a 
good story going. 

While Vincent worked in one end of 
the trench, Harold worked in the other, 
and every few minutes those digging 
would change off with those on the bank, 
so that all had a turn at it. Not so with 
the Twins, for they refused to give up 
their shovels even for an instant. Harold 
had his haversack slung on his shoulder, 
and, although it kept slipping around in 
his way, for some reason he refused to put 
it aside. 

“Why do n’t you take that bag off while 
you dig?” suggested Durbin. 

“ ’Cause. Think I want my cup and 
dishes to get lost?” blandly replied Har- 
old. 


183 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


One by one the boys tired themselves 
out and withdrew to the shade to rest. 
Still the Twins kept digging. 

‘T feel it in my bones/’ remarked Har- 
old, ‘‘that this is my lucky day. I ’m surely 
going to strike an Indian.” 

By three o’clock the hole was four feet 
deep in places, and still no signs of In- 
dians, when Vincent declared he smelled 
a strange odor “like a mummy smells;” 
but not being able to describe it any better 
than that, the others declared it was only 
his imagination. 

By three-thirty there were but five fel- 
lows left in the trench, when Harold, who 
was digging at the further end of the hole, 
began to whistle softly as he worked. A 
keen observer would have noticed that 
Vincent promptly turned at the first whis- 
tled notes and winked slyly at his brother 
in the other end of the trench. Then, in 
as excited a tone as he could command, 
he suddenly called out: 

“A bone! a bone! I ’ve found a bone!” 
There was a wild race from every direc- 
tion, and a bending eagerly over the hole 
184 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 


to see the discovery. In another second 
the overcrowded bank had caved in and 
the discovered bone was lost under feet 
of dirt. The excitement knew no bounds, 
however, and every boy wanted a shovel. 

Those that were fortunate enough to 
get hold of one worked like Turks. Mean- 
while, while the rush and excitement was 
at its height at the other end of the trench, 
Harold quickly slipped the bag around and 
drew out several pieces of bone the cook 
had boiled white and clean for him. These 
he quickly buried under a few inches of 
dirt, then joined the excited crowd at the 
other end of the trench. 

''Here, one of you fellows spell me off. 
I 'm tired,’’ he called, as he climbed out 
of the hole. Dale promptly took the 
shovel and began where Harold had left 
off. Harold watched him closely for a few 
seconds, then started for a drink. Dale 
lifted one, two — six shovels of earth, then 
his shovel struck something hard. 

"A bone! a bone!” he shouted, and the 
crowd surged to his end of the trench. 
The next shovelful showed there in the 

i8s 


THE three rivers KIDS 


white sand several pieces of bone as white 
and clean as the sand itself. 

Proudly Dale lifted them, a piece at a 
time, and handed them to the eager boys 
on the bank. “Love"’ was among those 
fortunate enough to receive a specimen. 
It was a thin, flat bone, with the appear- 
ance of having been removed from a larger 
bone with a meat saw, which fact was 
overlooked in the excitement. 

‘'What part of the body is it from?’' 
eagerly inquired “Love,” turning it over 
and examining it carefully from every 
side. 

“It’s a piece of a skull, isn’t it?” sug- 
gested “Shrimp.” 

“No, it ’s a femur, or something like 
that,” added “Specks.” 

“Ask Bill,” suggested Vincent. “His 
father ’s a doctor; he ’ll know.” 

Bill examined it critically. “And-a it ’s 
a knee-cap, I think,” said he. The next 
shovelful brought up half a dozen bones 
from last Sunday’s chicken dinner, but 
each one, after considerable controversy, 
was named and identified. One was a 

i86 


DIGGING UP INDIAN MOUNDS 


collar-bone, another a vertebra, and a 
third a floating rib. 

‘‘Gee, is nh this great chuckled Vin- 
cent, with glee. “Now, fellows, let 's get 
busy and get the rest of him.’' While the 
Twins stood out on the bank and watched, 
the rest dug untiringly till the hole was 
too deep to any longer throw the dirt out. 
But they found no other traces, and at last 
gave up from sheer exhaustion. 

“I suppose the rest of him just turned 
to dirt, did n’t it?” said Harold to Vincent. 
Every specimen was carefully carried 
home and proudly displayed to the cook. 

“O, dem is jest chicken bones,” laughed 
the good-natured chef. “Some wise ole 
fox buried dem bones in dat hole so de 
farmers would n’t cotch him foolin’ roun’ 
dere hen houses.” But the boys were not 
willing to believe him. 

That evening Vincent sat a long time 
silent by the fire, till his dream was broken 
by a good-natured slap on the shoulder 
from Cooper. 

“What are you thinking about, boy?” 

“O, I was just wondering why we 

187 


THE three rivers KIDS 


did n’t find any arrow-heads or stone axes 
in that hole if it was a real Indian grave. 
Seems queer, do n’t it? Anyway, it ’s kind 
of mean to be digging up Indian graves, 
do n’t you think so? If there are any spir- 
its about, they are liable to make us sorry.” 

“There are those that say there are spir- 
its around here,” suggested Cooper. “You 
know a long time ago a woman jumped 
from a boat into Little Corey and was 
drowned. The old folks around here be- 
lieved she had seen old Thomson’s ghost. 
She was just a little insane at times, and 
declared she had often met his spirit wan- 
dering in the woods.” 

“Spirits and bones,” shivered Vincent. 
“I ’ll bet I ’ll dream about them to-night. 
Good-night!” and he rose and went to his 
bunk. 


i88 


CHAPTER XI 

A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 

M r. BLAINE blew a long blast on 
his whistle and motioned the 
swimmers to come out of the 

water. 

‘'You fellows are the limit to-day/’ he 
said. “You have been grouchy and list- 
less all the afternoon, and some of you 
are too cranky to live. You must have 
worked too hard yesterday on that Indian 
mound. But I ’ll tell you one thing: you ’ll 
never have these pyramids in shape for 
the Fourth of July unless you get busy. 
Now let ’s have a little ‘pep.’ Watch for 
your signals! Line up!” 

The fellows took their time to it and 
were listless. Mr. Blaine gave the order, 
but “Shrimp” and Dale misunderstood 
him and took a wrong position. He called 
them back into line and tried again, with 
characteristic patience, but to no avail. 
189 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


''No use, fellows. Let ’s quit. All out 
He turned and walked off the pier. There 
was a chatter of complaining voices as 
the boys reluctantly came out on the 
beach and moved toward the locker house. 
Mr. Blaine turned to Cooper and the 
"chief.’’ 

"I never saw the fellows in that spirit 
before. They are sore at each other, and 
at me, and at everything. They need a 
good night’s sleep. You know they 
would n’t be quiet last night after the fra- 
cas. Those Twins are sure 'foxy’ kids, 
are n’t they?” 

"Yes, but they were foolish to tell about 
the bones. They might have known the 
fellows would get even with them some 
way,” replied the "chief.” 

"Well, I was sure there was something 
in the wind when we turned in last night,” 
added Cooper. "I noticed that several fel- 
lows in my tent did n’t put on their pa- 
jamas. I asked them about it, and they 
said it was too hot. I did n’t think much 
about it at the time.” 

"Well, they certainly did duck them 
190 


A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 


good and proper, anyway,'' went on the 
^‘chief," ‘^and they deserved it, too, only 
I do n't like this sour spirit we have had 
all day. We 'll have to get rid of it at 
the camp fire to-night somehow." 

At supper time there was a friendly 
rough house, and three fellows were late. 
They were refused supper and, of course, 
went off very much disgruntled. 

The usual singing and yells were omit- 
ted that night at the fire, and the devo- 
tions were very brief. Then the ‘^chief" 
made a suggestion. 

^‘Fellows, we do n't ever want another 
day in camp like this one, do we?" There 
was a chorus of ‘"Nos." ''Well, then, I 
have a suggestion to make. In order that 
we may never again experience a day 
when there will be so much grouching and 
quarreling, let us destroy every bit of hard 
feeling and start over again. We are all 
ashamed of ourselves. Mr. Blaine has 
suggested that we construct to-morrow a 
life-sized dummy, dress him in camp 
attire, and call him Professor Grouch. In 
the evening we will begin our stunts by 
191 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


court-martialing the Grouch, and if we 
find him guilty of being the true cause of 
the crabbing and unrest in this camp to- 
day, we will burn him at the stake and 
celebrate his death with feasting. But if 
we find him innocent, we will seek further 
for the real culprit. Are you in favor?’’ 

The first enthusiasm of the day was 
shown in the shouts of approval. 

^'Down with Grouch!” cried Vincent. 

‘'Mob him! Mob him!” cried Harold, 
brandishing a stick wildly in the air. 

“Listen!” The “chief” raised his hands 
for silence. “There are two large piles of 
old logs down by the shore. In the morn- 
ing we want to get out early, while it ’s 
cool, and build an immense fire with them 
for the destruction of Grouch if he be 
guilty. Every fellow that will be on hand 
to help, stand up.” The entire company 
stood up. “Now, further, fellows: To 
every man that puts in two good hours 
on that fire in the morning, we will give 
him credit for a ‘piece of camp service.’ 
That will enable some of you to get your 
Rags to-morrow night.” 

192 


A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 


^^That means my Brown Rag/’ joyously 
shouted Dale. ‘^Gee, I thought I ’d never 
get it, but now I can. Hurray! Down 
with Grouch!” 

'‘Now let ’s start in pursuit of the enemy 
of to-day’s fun and good spirits by a real 
live ‘Eberhart’ before we go to bed.” 
There was never such cheering, before or 
since, as followed. 

A judge and jury, as well as lawyers, 
were chosen to try the Grouch at the stunt 
fire the next evening, and to determine 
what should be done with him. Then the 
crowd broke up and went to their tents, 
all but Bill and the Twins, who had 
obtained permission to hunt bullfrogs 
that night under the direction of Mr. 
Cooper. 

They had concealed their boat in the 
tall rushes on the shore, and now they 
slipped noiselessly to it. The necessary 
bag and solar lamp were already in the 
bow, and all was in readiness. They got 
in and paddled quietly past the camp — 
out far enough from shore so they could 
not be seen. They saw the fellows prepar- 


THE three rivers KIDS 


ing for the evening dip and could hear 
their merry voices. 

''What are those Three Rivers kids up 
to now?’’ came floating out over the water 
to them. Vincent chuckled as he listened. 

"They are nowhere to be found just 
now,” came another voice. 

"O, they are n’t far away, you can be 
sure oi that,” came in a friendly voice 
from the locker house. "But keep your 
eyes peeled for a bucket of water or a 
snake or some fool stunt.” 

Harold laughed. "Wish I could scare 
them to death,” he said in a whisper. 
"They are getting on to us.” 

Soon the boat slipped through the 
channel and into the swamp-shored Little 
Corey. The lamp was lighted, and Bill 
took his place on the bow of the boat. 
Cooper rowed, and the Twins balanced up 
the stern, taking charge of the large bur- 
lap bag that had been brought along to 
hold the captured monsters. From far 
down the lake came the hoarse croak of 
one big fellow. It was instantly answered 
from across the swamp by a second. 

194 


A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 


Then one very close at hand gave a long, 
dismal croak, then another, and another, 
till the summer night reverberated with 
hoarse croakings. 

When the hunters reached the swamp. 
Cooper rested on his oars and listened. 
The young cat-tails waved gently in the 
warm breeze, and here and there a large 
pond-lily pad spread an inviting seat for 
the frogs. Bill sat on the bow alert, his 
lamp flashing long, narrow streaks of 
light among the lilies and the cat-tails. 

Suddenly there came a hoarse croak, so 
near that it startled them all. Bill swung 
his lamp quickly in the direction of the 
sound, but for some reason could not lo- 
cate the fellow, so perfectly did his green 
back blend with the surrounding color. 
At last, in disgust. Bill cried out, ''And-a 
do you see him?’' The big green fellow 
who was sitting blinking blindly at the 
light became frightened and, dropping off 
his perch, disappeared with a gurgle. 

The Twins sighed. Cooper chuckled, 
but Bill only adjusted himself for the next 
surprise. Then, as if by common consent, 

195 


THE three rivers KIDS 


the frogs began croaking on every side, 
but when pursued would become quiet 
again, and so were safe in the shadows of 
the tall grass and of the cat-tails. 

It was with no little effort that the 
heavy boat was forced from place to place 
in the shallow water, in and out, back and 
forth, among the close matted rushes, and 
it began to look very much as if the frog 
hunt would be a failure, when Bill sud- 
denly spied a big, green fellow sitting on 
a clump of bent reeds, his white throat 
puffed out ready for a croak. He flashed 
the light full upon him. The frog only 
gave a strange guttural note of surprise, 
then sat and stared. Slowly the boat 
crept nearer. Bill extended his arm as far 
as he could toward the frog, and the 
Twins strained to get a better view. 
Cooper gave his directions in low under- 
tones, and Bill did as he was told. At last 
the boat stopped a yard from the big, 
green fellow, his glassy eyes gleaming in 
the light. Bill made a quick grab, there 
was a smothered croak, a violent kicking, 
and the frog was held tightly in Bilks ex- 
tended hand. 196 


A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 


The Twins chattered delightedly, for 
they had never before seen such a frog. 
There in the half light and in the excite- 
ment of the moment he looked twice his 
real size. Bill, with a pleased smile on his 
face, held the frog triumphantly before 
the light. 

‘‘And-a what shall we call him?” he 
asked, dryly. No one had time to answer, 
for just then all frogdom seemed to croak 
inquiringly, in answer to the sounds com- 
ing from the burlap bag. 

'^This is a regular kidnaping stunt, 
isn't it?” began Vincent, but he was 
promptly silenced by a violent nudge from 
Harold, for already Bill had spotted a sec- 
ond frog and was motioning Cooper to go 
forward. A second capture was effected, 
and a third. Then Harold took Bill's 
place and proved himself also an expert. 

On around the swamp they went, catch- 
ing them at nearly regular intervals now, 
until they had seven. Seven great bull- 
frogs, all in one bag, croaking and gur- 
gling their displeasure at being captured. 
It had been, in days gone by, that a bull 
197 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


frog was absolutely safe on Corey Lake 
after dark. But now some great giant, 
with an eye that flashed long streaks of 
dazzling light here and there at his will, 
had come, and pandemonium reigned in 
frogdom. 

Bill found it difflcult to stay in the boat, 
so eager was he to lay hold on the mon- 
sters. Harold, by a slight miscalculation, 
missed one. So Vincent promptly de- 
clared it was time for him to try his hand 
at the game. 

Great swarms of insects were coming to 
the light, and they fell in countless num- 
bers around the hot lamp. Now and then 
a perch or blue-gill would rise to the sur- 
face to feast on the easy prey and to look 
at the strange light. The boat had slipped 
clear around to the far side of the lake 
before they realized it, and in another 
half-hour they were in the very middle of 
the swamp. They had forgotten time, 
place, and everything except frogs. Now 
and then a startled blackbird would rise 
from her nest and scold the intruders, or 
a big leather-back would tumble off a 
198 


A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 


hummock with a noisy splash and paddle 
away. 

The number of captured frogs had 
grown to thirteen now, and it was a man’s 
task to keep the bag in hand, so many 
ways did it want to jump at once. 

Suddenly the lamp flickered and went 
out, for its water chamber had become 
empty. It was dark — blacker than any 
night the boys had ever seen. What 
would they do? How would they get out 
of the big swamp? They did not dare to 
dip the lantern under the water, for it was 
blistering hot and would crack the lense. 
They just sat still and thought. 

‘T have it,” said Harold, between chat- 
tering teeth. ‘‘My shoe!” In an instant 
it was off and full of water. The cap was 
removed from the water chamber. By the 
sickly glimmer of a lighted match the 
water was slowly poured from the back of 
the shoe into the lamp. Harold was bend- 
ing over, filling the lamp, when from 
somewhere in the tall reeds just ahead 
there came a blood-curdling, half-wild 
laugh, and a rattling of the dry reeds. 

199 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 

Cooper sat suddenly upright, an oar 
grasped tightly in his hand, while Harold 
suddenly dropped lamp, shoe, and all. 
Vincent cried out with pain, for he had 
held a lighted match in each hand, and 
they were all but burned out. Cooper 
spoke in a whisper. 

“Sit perfectly quiet, fellows. Do n't tip 
over, for we are over the quicksand beds." 

Tales of tragedies in the quicksands 
pulsed through Bill’s mind, and he became 
so absorbed for the moment that the bag 
of frogs slipped from his listless hands. 
There were one, two, three splashes be- 
fore he came to himself again. The frogs 
were escaping! He rose, the boat tipped 
and dipped water, but Cooper, seeing the 
danger, quickly swung his weight to the 
other side. Bill caught the bag and, hold- 
ing it tightly, glanced fearfully over his 
shoulder into the darkness. 

“What was it, ‘Coop?’ ’’ asked Harold, 
in a suppressed whisper. “It sounded like 
a woman.’’ 

“No, it sounded like a crazy man,’’ re- 
plied Vincent. 


200 


A GHOST IN THE NIGHT 


‘‘And-a it sounded like a ghost, did n't 
it?" suggested Bill, tremulously. 

^Tt must be old Thomson’s ghost pur- 
suing evil spirits," added Cooper. 

The boys made no reply, for they were 
thinking of the many stories that had 
come to them of the strange old hermit 
and his queer ways. 

With very shaky fingers they finally in- 
duced the lamp to burn again, and slowly 
the boat worked its way out into the open 
water, thence to camp. 

“Not a word of it to any one," warned 
Vincent, “for they would only laugh 
at us." 

“They ’d never, never believe us," 
echoed Harold. 

“And-a, Gee! but I was scared," 
laughed Bill. “I lost most all the frogs, 
too. Say, do you suppose that thing 
didn’t like our catching them?" 

When the boat touched the camp beach 
and the boys were safe home again, Har- 
old stretched himself and said, “Gee, I ’d 
like to have seen him, though ; would n’t 
you?" 


201 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


“Let ’s go hunt him up,” suggested 
Cooper, but the boys begged off, saying 
they were too sleepy. Cooper knew only 
too well that they could n’t be induced to 
sleep, but he did not urge them. They 
slipped quietly to their tents, while Cooper 
climbed the hill to the lodge with the 
catch of frogs, and incidentally to talk 
with the “chief” about the incident. 

“No, it was no ghost,” said the “chief,” 
laughing. “It was a loon. I Ve heard 
them often, only earlier in the season.” 

“A loon!” ejaculated Cooper. “'Crazy 
as a loon.’ I never knew what that meant 
before, but now I do. It was an uncanny 
cry. Do n’t tell the kids though. Let 
them think it was old Hesikia’s spirit. It 
will give them something to think about. 
Good-night !” 

“Good-night!” said the “chief,” and 
Cooper slipped off to his bed, laughing to 
himself. 


202 


CHAPTER XII 


PROFESSOR GROUCH PAYS THE 
PENALTY 

H arold and Vincent were awak- 
ened early the next morning by 
merry shouts and the ring of axes 
on heavy timbers. Harold was the first 
out of bed. 

''Gee, they are working already,’' he 
cried to Vincent. "Come on. We’re 
late.” 

"Working on what?” asked Vincent, 
drowsily. 

"On the big stunt fire where they ’re 
going to burn 'Grouch.’ Come on, 
hurry !” He slipped into his trousers, 
pulled on a gym jersey, stuck his head into 
a pan of cold water at the pump, and 
was off. 

The camp had been astir for an hour. 
The fellows were busy rolling the heavy 
logs to the water’s edge and piling them 
203 


THE three rivers KIDS 


on end about a stout hickory they had 
planted in the ground as a center pole. 

''One, two, three — up she goes. Steady 
now. Here, Durbin, back this end in. 
Let her down — easy now. That ’s the 
ticket.’' So one by one the timbers were 
stood on end about the hickory. All the 
small sticks and brush that could be found 
were being hauled in by the smaller fel- 
lows and filled in about the base. 

By breakfast the job was well along. 
By swimming time it was all up, well 
wired, oiled, and ready for the big event. 

Mr. Blaine was busy most of the morn- 
ing building the dummy, and by noon a 
real "Grouch” had been constructed. 
Certain portions of the gentleman’s 
anatomy were made in secret, and there 
was no little speculation as to just what 
would happen "when the old boy got well 
afire.” 

I saw them putting in a lot of sticks of 
dynamite,” confided "Love” to Dale and 
Longley. 

"Those were roman candles,” laughed 
Longley. 


204 


GROUCH PAYS THE PENALTY 


“How do you know?'' questioned 
“Love." 

“ 'Cause I saw the big box of fireworks 
come yesterday, and I saw the 'chief open 
it this morning," replied Longley. 

“Well, I saw Mr. Blaine put a lot of 
cannon crackers in 'Grouch’s' shoes, any- 
way," said Vincent. 

“O, those were n't cannon crackers at 
all," affirmed Leonard. “They were just 
red sox. The cook gave them to Mr. 
Blaine especially for the occasion." 

“Well, anyway, there are a lot of big 
sky rockets sticking out of his coat collar, 
I 'll bet on that,” assured Vincent. 

“His head 's full of green light, too," 
said “Love," “ 'cause I found a bag down 
by the fire that said 'Green Light,' and I 
know they made his head of a big tin-can." 

In the afternoon the pyramids were 
practiced for the last time, while in the 
woods adjoining the camp minstrels held 
a final rehearsal. Every fellow was busy. 

Quite a number of visitors arrived on 
the evening train to stay until after July 
Fourth, and among them was Mr. Eldred, 
205 


THE three rivers KIDS 


who was to make the patriotic address on 
the morrow. 

The invitation had been extended to all 
the neighbors, young folks, both boys and 
girls, to come to the big fire. After sup- 
per these began to arrive, coming in ones, 
twos, and threes, by boat, buggy, or afoot. 

A makeshift court room had been ar- 
ranged, with seats for the judge and the 
jurors. Professor Grouch was calmly 
seated on a chair, fastened to the hickory 
pole, high above the fire, and seemed to 
care very little about what was going on 
below him, for he looked straight ahead. 
His hat was cocked on one side of his 
head, and in his teeth he grimly held a 
corn-cob pipe, from the bowl of which pro- 
truded a mysterious fuse. 

The guests assembled; the jurors took 
their seats; the judge called the court to 
order, and the trial began. 

The counsel for the defense made a 
very lame plea, stating that poor Grouch 
had always been a grouch ; a sour, crabbed 
man, who had never tasted real happiness 
in his life nor felt good-will toward any 
206 


GROUCH PAYS THE PENALTY 


one. He had never been known to smile 
or laugh. Taking it all in all, Grouch 
himself confessed that he had just about 
come to the conclusion that he really had 
no right to live, at least among such a 
crowd of live and happy boys. 

The court finally charged Grouch with 
disturbing the peace of the camp and with 
the murdering of ''Good Will.'’ To these 
charges Grouch, through his attorney, 
pleaded guilty. Witnesses were then 
sworn in, and these to a man testified that 
Grouch was an unkind, unfair man, selfish 
in the extreme, and that his heart was any- 
thing but good. The testimony further 
showed that he had time after time gotten 
well-meaning fellows into trouble, and 
that he had a type of indigestion that was 
contagious. He was merely a public 
nuisance. 

After all the witnesses had been on the 
stand, the prosecuting attorney made an 
eloquent speech in which he pleaded for 
the death of the rascal prisoner and a se- 
vere sentence for every one of his follow- 
ers and accomplices, closing his appeal 
207 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


to the jurors by declaring that the very 
future success and happiness of dear 
old Eberhart itself depended on the 
complete overthrow of this unprincipled 
scoundrel. 

The jury were out just thirty seconds, 
when they returned a verdict of guilty. 
''Guilty of the murder of 'Good Will’ in 
the first degree, Your Honor, and we rec- 
ommend to the court that Grouch be 
burned at the stake this night, until he is 
entirely consumed, and that his spirit be 
sent to dwell in the swamp with that of 
old Thomson.” The judge with marked 
ceremony so ordered. In a second the 
torches were applied to the oiled fagots, 
and the flames swept upward, enveloping 
the victim. 

A long, oiled rope had been attached to 
the Professor and dropped into the fire. 
The flames quickly ran up this fuse, and 
in an instant Mr. Grouch was paying his 
last respects to his accusers. He held a 
red light in his right hand, his left was 
placed over his heart. His pipe had been 
filled with green light, and this he smoked 
208 



n a second the torches were applied to the 
oiled fagots. 







v; 



■ 




i - .- ■ v %S^ ’'viiL^’* 

*■ ^'c ?<’< Jt' ’ ■• ►'■ ».‘'ul#! 


15 


tK 


JT-I- * vV«-'£ . v: *' 

1. 1. * 


\:’i *'.*'• ^ ' k * 

7* . V 1 •"* 

\ . * •n ' »* 


. ItP..- '■•'i^.Z 

,* ‘‘4: : :i ^ • ▼ • 

,V- ‘ ■• 


"ini'll' 

■• ,««;;v‘ir, ■ :;.{v 




fef.C'*’/.. 



■■* '■^* * •- 
It* i ■ •■ .A A •». 




■ \ 

• •' ♦• , m . . 

i ! i k . ^ . 9 


' ■- fi. •"'^ 

■* . * <^JC 

■ n- 




•■ V- je 4 i/' - 0 , ■•^’.’‘A*'^' 

'1 -4 * 


^.*.k 


>» 




• « 




•in 




l-TWr ••*''*' • fl 

lair^ . V 5 *- 

*' ‘* ' ' ' ‘S ■' 'Vr" '•* ’ •»: • '- 

y t •• -A. - ..V3.. 


% 




TwV 


l-n 




« t 







's- ■ 


•V 


3 i 










:j. . 


'♦■■V.’W* • 


« A. 


.tl 




V 


; ^ * 


EJm * rij^ r-.i , ••> , • v"',>*c sawkfc > 

“ -^ *• ♦ ^ k^fil r*’^r. Va - ‘ i. 

'*"■ , '«•■ ■ ' f ft-'.* ' idy 


\ ^ -yar^ 


•i . 


% 







GROUCH PAYS THE PENALTY 


vigorously. A half-dozen roman candles, 
concealed in his breast pocket, poured 
forth a shower of colored balls. Just as 
a great bomb exploded in his trousers’ 
pocket, a series of sky-rockets slid out of 
his coat collar into the sky, to typify the 
releasing of his spirit. His head tipped 
forward, and his arms dropped listlessly 
at his sides just as the flames from the 
great pile of logs reached him. In another 
second he was lost from view in the clouds 
of smoke and flame. 

There were several rousing cheers, a 
hearty song or two, and then the stunts 
began. The fire and the speeches had im- 
pressed every boy, and it was not until 
huge slices of water-melon made their ap- 
pearance that the spirit of the trial disap- 
peared. 

Final announcements for the morrow 
were made, and then the crowd made for 
their tents amid a shower of water-melon 
rinds. 

“Say, that was great, was n’t it?” Dale 
said to Cooper, as they walked along the 
path to the tents. “I would n’t have 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


missed it for a farm. No more grouching 
for mine.’’ 

'‘So old Grouch is gone for good,” re- 
marked "Shrimp” Warren as he slipped 
out of his clothes preparatory to his even- 
ing dip. "It ’s a good thing, too, for he 
was a scalawag right, wasn’t he?” 

"The tyrant rules no more,” cried Dur- 
bin, tragically. "No more he ’ll haunt our 
pleasant canvas homes to peeve and urge 
the imps of Satan on. And if he dares re- 
turn, we ’ll shout : 'Avaunt ye, idle, loung- 
ing villain. Why loiter ye here? for this 
is a happy kingdom.’ ” 

"Where ’d you get it, Durbin?” asked 
Vincent, good-naturedly. "Say, by the 
way, Durbin, what ’s the weather signs 
for the Fourth?” 

Durbin knelt and felt of the grass at his 
feet. 

“ When the dew is on the grass, 

Rain will never come to pass.” 

The fellows shouted their approval of 
the prophecy, and in less than a jiffy were 
in the water for their evening dip. 


210 


CHAPTER XIII 

HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


“A LL out to raise the new flag-pole, 
boys!’’ called the ''chief,’' as he 
hastened down the long row of 
khaki tents early the next morning. "It 's 
a glorious Fourth. Let 's get the pole up 
before the sun gets hot.” 

"This is going to be some Fourth,” 
gayly chirped Vincent as he knelt before 
his very disordered trunk and searched 
hastily through the rumpled contents for 
a set of clean garments. 

"Let 's see,” replied Harold. "First, up 
goes the new flag-pole, and then comes the 
speech — gee, I hope it 's short — and then 
breakfast, and then — ” 

"O, it won’t go that fast,” interrupted 
Cooper, who just then stuck his head in 
between the flaps. "Let ’s make it last 
just as long as we can, kids. What do 
you say?” 


211 


THE three rivers KIDS 


Three loud booms sounded from the 
lodge on the hill, then there came the fa- 
miliar creaking of the rusty little pulley 
as the big flag spread itself to the morning 
breeze. From the tent street came a 
happy chatter as the boys hurried into 
their clothes. Then reveille broke on the 
morning air. In fifteen minutes the camp- 
ers had gathered on the point, and work 
on the hole for the flag-pole was begun. 
The new pole lay close by on the ground, 
where it had been carefully trimmed and 
the halyards attached the day before. 
By it, in a box, lay the new flag that 
was that morning to be raised for the 
first time. 

''Keep your eye on the Twins,’' advised 
"Shrimp” Warren, "or they will be plant- 
ing a new batch of bones in that hole for 
you.” 

"I heard that a real Indian ghost nearly 
scared them to death on the lake the other 
night,” suggested Durbin. "How about 
it, Vincent?” 

"I heard it was old Thomson’s ghost,” 
laughed Mr. Verne. "Some one told me 
212 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


that Bill really saw him.” But the Twins 
said not a word. 

“And-a how did you fellows find out 
about it?” questioned Bill, sharply, at 
which they only laughed the more. 

“O, we heard you talking in your sleep, 
said Longley. But as a matter of fact. 
Bill had written the details in a letter to 
his mother, then went ofif and left the let- 
ter lying on the library table. 

'‘That ghost stufif is all rot,” declared 
Porter. 'T do n’t take any stock in any 
of it.” 

The older fellows were doing most of 
the digging, and the size of the sandpile 
was increasing fast. Likewise the hole, 
for the sides kept caving in as they dug 
down until it became quite a large excava- 
tion. 

Blarold and Vincent had waited pa- 
tiently for their turn to shovel. When it 
came, the}^ jumped into the hole together 
and began shoveling out the soft dirt. 
Harold had hardly thrown out half a 
dozen shovelfuls when his shovel struck 
something hard. He raised the shovel 
213 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 

and drove it into the ground a second time, 
with the same result. It stopped, half 
buried in- the sand. 

‘T Ve struck something, I guess,’’ he 
called out, but the fellows only laughed. 

‘'More chicken bones, I suppose,” called 
the “chief” from the pump, where he had 
gone to drink. 

“O, that game of yours is old,” said 
Durbin, disgustedly. “Get busy and get 
out the dirt. Let ’s get that pole up, for 
I ’m getting hungry,” and he slapped his 
empty stomach. 

Again Harold dug his shovel into the 
ground as far as it would go, then began 
to throw the sand to one side, but there 
was apparently nothing to be seen. 

“It ’s just a rock,” called “Shrimp.” 
“Dig around it, then you can pry it out 
with your shovel.” But Harold was on 
his hands and knees, digging around the 
supposed rock with his fingers. “It ’s a 
great iron ring,” he exclaimed, excitedly, 
“and it ’s fast to something.” 

“A great iron ring?” said “Love,” in- 
214 


HESIKIA’S treasure CHEST 


credulously. ‘'Let ’s see.’’ The crowd 
moved toward the excavation like magic, 
and in another second they were all peer- 
ing in the hole. 

“Get back!” said Cooper. “You ’ll have 
the entire bank caved in. Here, Harold, 
let me see.” Cooper jumped into the hole, 
shovel in hand. The dirt flew for a few 
seconds, then there was exposed a large 
iron ring apparently attached to some- 
thing that lay out under the solid bank. 
Cooper braced himself and pulled, but 
there was not the slightest amount of give 
to it. He looked surprised, and the excite- 
ment grew intense, for if Cooper could n’t 
pull it out, what in the world could it be 
fastened to? 

“It ’s an old buried live bait box prob- 
ably,” said the “chief.” “The one we left 
here last season is just about covered up 
over there on the beach. It does n’t take 
long in this sand.” 

“A bait box nothing,” cried Vincent 
from his place in the hole. “It ’s a buried 
treasure. It ’s a chest !” And he danced 
215 


THE three rivers KIDS 


wildly in his excitement, for the sand had 
now caved in, exposing the black end of 
what appeared to be a box. 

Everything imaginable was being sug- 
gested by the crowd on the bank — a 
sunken ship, a coffin, a big iron pot of gold, 
an underground cave — but this last was 
too extreme. All the while the digging 
went on in greatest haste. At length the 
end of a black iron box, to which the ring 
was attached, was completely uncovered. 
A group of the watchers were sent to find 
a heavy rope, and another group after a 
stout pole for use as a lever. Twice the 
whole was caved in and the dirt had to be 
shoveled out again before anything more 
could be accomplished, but at last Cooper 
was able to work the strange box loose 
from its age-old resting place, but was un- 
able to lift it out to the bank. Many will- 
ing hands were stretched down into the 
hole to lend aid, and the treasure box was 
dragged out. 

It had been set just above the present 
water-line of the lake, but from its rusty 
appearance, it had beyond a doubt been at 
216 


HESIKIA^S TREASURE CHEST 


one time below the water level. The ring 
was missing from the socket on the other 
end, and the stout lever that was meant 
to open and close its safe-like door was 
rusted so badly that it could not be moved. 
There was a keyhole just to one side of 
this bar, but it too had long since sifted 
full of rust and sand. Anyway, where was 
the key? What was this box? What 
strange story of the long-forgotten past 
was this that was in these few moments 
brought to light so unexpectedly? That 
was the question. What was the answer? 

Never before had so large a crowd of 
boys occupied so small a space, namely: 
the space immediately surrounding the 
momentous find. Questions poured in 
like rain. A hundred vivid imaginations 
were busy in an instant, building strange 
tales from the few facts already at hand. 
In a flash a hundred likelihoods were put 
into words. All the mysterious buried 
treasure stories of all time seemed to rise 
together to offer their help and sugges- 
tions for the solution. 

^^Three dead men on a dead man’s chest, 
217 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


yo-ho, and a bottle of rum shouted Dur- 
bin; but it is doubtful if the others even 
heard him, for the mysterious box was be- 
ing cautiously turned over and over and 
surveyed from every angle. How to get 
into it — that was the next question. Time 
had worked cruelly with the old chest. 
Rust had checked and eaten and weakened 
it, yet the strong steel plates were still 
amply able to hold their secret from cu- 
rious eyes. 

''An ax and a chisel!’’ shouted Cooper. 
Harold was off toward the lodge in a 
flash, to secure the desired articles. 

"And a file and a hacksaw,” he shouted 
after the retreating figure, which was 
nearly to the top of the hill. 

"O, Bill, if we just had that ghost of 
yours here now, I bet he could help us 
out,” confided "Love” with his little gig- 
gle. But Bill was not thinking of ghosts 
just then; for was not here before his very 
eyes a really, truly, buried treasure? Per- 
haps it had belonged to Captain Kidd him- 
self, for all Bill knew, and inside — he 
dared not think, at least out loud. Al- 
218 


HESIKIA^S TREASURE CHEST 

ready he was turning over in his mind the 
things he would have to write home about 
the wonderful discovery. 

All eyes were turned impatiently to- 
ward Harold, for he was coming, loaded 
down with tools, and no one thinking to 
go and help him, while each second of 
suspense seemed like an hour. 

“Hey, there, boy; get a hustle on you!'’ 
shouted Stellner, who was very impatient 
at the short delay. “We want to see 
what 's inside, you rube." 

“If it's gold, who gets it?" questioned 
Vincent, thereby giving away the trend 
of his thoughts. 

“We bought it with the land, I sup- 
pose," answered the “chief," shortly, a 
puzzled look on his face. 

“Now we can have a motor boat and all 
the other things we want, can't we?" ex- 
claimed “Shrimp," who already held the 
precious contents in his clenched hands, 
in his mind. 

The bottom of the chest was finally 
chosen as the weakest part, as it was only 
riveted to the rim, while the sides were 
219 


THE three rivers KIDS 

set into a strong framework. Accord- 
ingly the box was turned face downward 
on the sand, and a few of Cooper’s telling 
blows with the heavy ax loosened the an- 
cient rivets, and the bottom gave way. 
The crowd of eager boys pressed forward 
to get the first glimpse of what was in- 
side. 

'T see bags !” shouted Harold, who was 
on his knees as close as he could possibly 
get to the chest. “O! It’s full of gold 
and money!” He fairly stuck his head 
into the old chest, only to jerk it back 
again as quickly, for a strange, foul odor 
was issuing from the chest and filling all 
the air with its musty, sour smell, as of 
old, wet papers rotting in a damp, dark 
cellar. 

At last the bottom was carefully re- 
moved and the contents disclosed, fol- 
lowed by a chorus of exclamations, for 
there before them were three rotten cloth 
bags, each bulging with its precious con- 
tents. 

‘‘And guns !” shouted “Love.” 

220 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


''And daggers and hair and books!’’ 
shouted "Shrimp.” "Is the hair a scalp?” 
And he reached forward and picked it up 
gingerly, holding it at arm’s length be- 
fore the astonished campers, while the 
hair unwrapped itself in the warm, dry air 
with slow, snakelike movements. 

Two hundred hands were eagerly ex- 
tended to receive a sample of the treasure. 
A hundred excited faces watched every 
move the "chief” made as he turned the 
contents over and set some of it aside to 
see what lay deeper in the shadows. After 
a hurried conference among the leaders it 
was decided to remove the treasure, chest 
and all, to the lodge, where everything 
could be spread out on tables, for the 
books and papers — and there was a goodly 
packet of the latter — were wet, rotten, and 
discolored. The secret of the chest was, 
no doubt, there; so they must be handled 
carefully, every one of them, until the 
truth was known. 

"Give me something to carry,” begged 
"Specks.” 


221 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


''And me/’ cried Johnnie. 

"And me,” "And me,” came in a chorus 
from every boy. 

Twice, three times the chef hammered 
the breakfast bell, but it was unheard or, 
if heard, unheeded. What was a mere 
breakfast as compared to a buried treas- 
ure! 

Carefully the "chief” took hold of the 
largest bag to lift it from the chest. As 
he did so, the bottom gave way, scattering 
the contents in the chest. Silence fol- 
lowed, for what they saw was such a sur- 
prise that no one could speak. The 
"chief” stood as if paralyzed, holding the 
empty remnant of the bag, for where they 
expected to see shining coins of gold and 
silver, there were only hundreds upon 
hundreds of small, clean pebbles. 

"Hesikia Thomson,” breathed some 
one, and the words were repeated by 
others of the group. Disappointment 
shone on many a face for a moment. 
Then, as the meaning of those words be- 
came clear to them, their faces brightened 
with a new and greater interest. 

222 


he treasure chest of Ilesikia Thomson, the crazy hermit," repeated the 






( • 





/ I 






V 







« ( 


V- 


• 9,'*? , ■' ' 

r;*' 



W •'•.^’«‘>,?/,r ,1* 

Tw •' . '■ ifj._ ^ 




'TvJf,; rf 




3».>, 

;?:*w 


• ' "A V >JK, 


S ^tLfi^sV . 4^3 • -i! V 

l^'.^nir'.'t...',^:’''',,:' 

J.y •' ' • 

L;, JL ■ ■ 




- i f .V?; ite.f ‘ , •rl:!. ^i f ,,' •'. (. 

,i-* - 5tV. •.•.■■' • > ,• 

.- --vV 



' > '' "l 



’i; ^ » i 

^/V ' 

^ ^ « 

» • tf . ' 

<■* . '1 

hL- " 

V J 

i" ii , - 



HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


‘^The treasure chest of Hesikia Thom- 
son, the crazy hermit,’’ slowly repeated 
the ^^chief.” ^^He thought these stones 
would turn to gold. Poor, deluded mor- 
tal!” 

'Toor fool!” said Durbin. ''And yet we 
thought they were gold ourselves. 'What 
fools these mortals be!’” and everybody 
laughed. The tension of the excitement 
was broken. 

A line was quickly formed, and to each 
boy was given some one thing to carry 
to the lodge. To one boy it was a handful 
of the white pebbles. To another it was a 
gun of ancient cap-and-ball design, its 
one time gleaming barrel pitted with the 
age-old rust ; and to another its mate, that 
also had suffered much from its long, damp 
rest, its trigger fast, its hammer rusted 
red. Then came an evil-looking sheath- 
knife, the brass mountings on its handle 
green with age, the once keen blade dark- 
ened with ancient bloody stains. There 
was a watch of by-gone pattern, the name 
that had been engraved upon its silver 
case still showing plainly on the back. 

223 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Then came a dozen coins of small denomi- 
nations, bearing the United States stamp 
and dates that showed them all to be of 
ripe old age. 

‘'Give me the arrow-heads,’’ cried Vin- 
cent, who had been waiting for a choice 
bit of the treasure to carry up the hill. An- 
other boy received a tiny bag of gold ore, 
and another a heavy wedding ring, the 
true story of which would probably never 
be known. Then came an ancient leather 
powder horn, the leather hard, the copper 
rivets green. 

So the line filed by, each one receiving 
a share of the strange contents. The 
packet of wet and musty papers the 
“chief” kept in his own possession. Last 
in the procession came Cooper and Mr. 
Blaine, bringing the heavy box itself, in 
which the mysteries had been buried. 

The flag-pole was forgotten, the speech 
was forgotten, even breakfast held no at- 
traction. And when the treasures reached 
the lodge each fellow wanted to finger 
every article and form his own conclu- 
sions. 


224 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


The ^^chief’ took the packet of papers 
into the office and spread them out to dry, 
scanning each one carefully for any signs 
of information. There were old deeds 
more than one hundred years old. One 
particularly yellow slip, that was nearly 
past reading, was dated 1739, and was an 
ancient deed to land in His Majesty's Col- 
ony of Connecticut. Another was dated 
1795, and showed the change from Eng- 
lish money to United States money. 

'Tor and in consideration of the sum of 
four hundred dollars lawful money of the 
State of Connecticut," it read. There 
were several others, all deeds to land 
somewhere in New England. Then came 
a will, a carefully wrapped packet of an- 
cient checks, and some letters that were 
too far gone to be read. 

Next came a packet larger than the rest, 
which proved upon careful examination 
to be written on vellum instead of paper, 
and were in better condition than any of 
the others. When they were opened and 
spread out, what was the surprise to find 
two sketches of Corey Lake itself, accu- 
225 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


rate in every detail except proportion. 
The first very clearly indicated the posi- 
tion of the box that had just been found. 
At the same time there were two other 
marks exactly similar. One was located 
on the extreme end of Bass Point, the 
other on the island. 

When this fact became known to the 
boys, wild excitement reigned, and every 
camper wanted to organize a party at 
once to search for the other chests; but 
they were persuaded to wait, for there 
were many other things of great interest 
to be talked over if they but waited. 

The first map had a very peculiar cipher 
in the upper right-hand corner, but no one 
was able to even suggest its meaning. 
There were also a series of dotted lines 
running across the water, and at a point 
that seemed to be about the center of the 
lake, there was a large black cross. In 
the lower right-hand corner were these 
words : 

''Cedar chest with body. Key in Lone- 
some Oak.” 

The mystery deepened. "Cedar chest 
226 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


with body. Key in Lonesome Oak.” 
What body? Where was the “Lonesome 
Oak?” Did the dark cross represent the 
resting place of a human body? What 
great secret was this that had come to 
light in so strange a manner — come to 
light from the depths of a once vast wil- 
derness? Perhaps a hundred years had 
rolled away, a nation had been built, a con- 
tinent civilized, since this odd secret cham- 
ber had been buried, only to be dug up 
again and pried into by human hands a 
century later. 

The second map seemed to be merely an 
enlargement of that part of the first which 
showed the location of the three treasure 
chests. In the upper left of this was a sec- 
ond strange, unreadable message in ci- 
pher. In the right-hand corner were the 
words in bold letters, ''God Rules,’’ and in 
the lower corner the simple direction, 
"Large oak. 4th m. from S. S. 14 ft. 
S. C. P.” What could it all mean? Who 
could read the cipher, and what secret did 
it hold? 

The third seemed to be a letter, evi- 
227 


.THE three rivers KIDS 


dently the last written of the old hermit, 
and plainly showed his mental condition 
at that time. 

The boys were at last induced to line 
up for breakfast, and as the chef rewarmed 
the food this letter was read aloud : 

'‘To Those Concerned: — This chest 
is the property of Hesikia Thomson, 
formerly of New England, later of the 
Michigan wilderness. A spiritualist 
of God believing, and my spirit will 
still roam over these lakes in the full 
moon seasons, guarding all my valu- 
able, deposited possessions, for they 
are many and varied. God gave me 
many wonderful secrets, but because 
of the great sin, he took them all away 
but one, the least of them, the turn- 
ing of sable stones into gold. I have 
buried this secret by the body of old 
Duckwing in the big swamp. God 
rest my soul. God has filled the earth 
with gold. Devils do not believe it, 
but has He not promised, 'seek and 
find?' The blue heron is wise and 
228 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


the night owl, but man is an ass, for 
he walketh not in the ways of the 
Most High. 

“My father’s spirit, rest his soul, 
taught me when the warm breeze of 
full moon came, that sable stones 
were gold by faith. The Mighty One 
granted a prophet as a reward for 
serving his mother’s spirit and keep- 
ing it from the fiery devils. I be- 
queath my secret to you with all of 
the possession of the spirit family. 
They make you rich, for my spirit 
ever guards he who is the owner. 
You are a talisman. I guard this 
chest always, and those others also. 
The Island is doomed forever, it is 
the abiding place of the seven devils ! 
Beware! Fish die, birds drop as they 
pass, and man disappears in its cav- 
ernous depths. The arrow-heads are 
the peace tokens of the Running Wa- 
ter, but the gold came from those 
depths of the cave. The luck stone 
saved her from the evil one. The 
knife, the one that drank his life’s 
229 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


blood, is cursed for ever. The books 
were her possessions from the older 
days before the great shadow fell ; the 
man may claim his papers, Duckwing 
knows how I came by them. He died 
for lack of faith. The guns were his, 
they were found upon his body. He 
had obtained the ring, but the spirits 
found him. The gold pebbles were 
my own products of my genius. 
Place them in the spring at midnight, 
as the blue heron passes the swamp, 
— all believing, nothing doubting, I 
will aid you. The spirit bid me 
hasten. I must be gone. Farewell.'' 


Great was the discussion as to the true 
meaning of such sentences as : ''God gave 
me many wonderful secrets, but because of 
the great sin He took them all away but 
one;" "The arrow-heads are the peace of- 
fering of Running Water;" "The knife, 
the one that drank his life's blood, is 
cursed forever;” "The books were her pos- 
sessions from the old days before the great 
shadow fell;" "The man may claim his pa- 
230 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


pers, Duckwing knows how came I by 
them;” “The guns were his, they were 
found on his body;’’ ‘‘He had obtained the 
ring, but the spirit bound him;” “I have 
buried this secret by the body of old Duck- 
wing in the big swamp.” 

It was past ten o’clock when breakfast 
was over and the dishes cleared away. Of 
course the ball game was not played as 
had been planned, but because it was July 
Fourth and the Nation’s birthday, the still 
excited campers were called together to 
finish the half completed task of raising 
the flag-pole and flying the new flag. 

“The pole will serve a double purpose 
now,” said the “chief.” “For it will not 
only fly our new flag, but will forever 
mark the spot where Hesikia consigned 
his secrets to the earth.” 

The pole was soon planted and the ban- 
ner flung to the breeze amid hearty cheers. 
Then came the flag salute by as enthusi- 
astic a crowd of young Americans as were 
ever banded together. Then the party 
found places beneath the shadows of the 
remaining fringe of the wonderful wood- 
231 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


land that had once been Hesikia’s abiding 
place, and there listened attentively to the 
splendid address by Mr. Eldred. 

^^Fellow Campers: — We have just set 
free to the breeze the grandest banner that 
flies this day upon the earth.* 

“The story is told, and I suppose it is 
true, of General Washington discussing 
with his lieutenants the design and colors 
of a National emblem. They were seated 
at a table, and as they talked a sunbeam 
stole through the window, fell upon a 
glass in front of them, and there on the 
white tablecloth before the whole com- 
pany shone the beautiful red, white, and 
blue of our National flag. And I know 
that to-day, as the light shines through 
our hearts, it is refracted into the same 
patriotic colors. 

“This is our Nation’s birthday, and it is 
fitting that we should stop for a little while 
and reflect upon how much our country 
means to us, and upon how much we may 
mean to our country. You have all read 
the fine story of Philip Nolan, the ‘Man 
Without a Country.’ You will remember 
that in his youth, as a young soldier, he 

* Note. — Address given at Camp Eberhart, July 4, 1912, 
by Mr. S. B. Pettingill. 

232 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 

joined with Aaron Burr in an act of trea- 
son against the United States. When he 
was brought to trial he declared with an 
oath that he hoped that he would never 
hear the name of the United States again. 
In accordance with his wish, the court de- 
creed that he should be taken on board 
ship to cruise around as long as he should 
live, but never to see his native land, nor 
hear her name again. And then we know 
how the long years passed until finally 
Philip Nolan went down to his grave in 
the sea broken-hearted because he had no 
fatherland. But we have a country and a 
country's flag. It is not the flag of a single 
State. It does not represent a single sec- 
tion; it is not the cross of St. George nor 
the banner of St. Andrew; it is not the 
emblem of any individual nor the personal 
standard of any king. It is the flag of a 
country: there is a State for every star 
and a star for every State. The Stars and 
Stripes stand for America. Kings and 
countries both have individualities; they 
both have adherents and defenders. But 
the one is mortal, while the other is im- 
mortal. And so it is that almost a century 
and a half after it was first flung to the 
breeze, our flag still waves as the emblem 
of a living, breathing country. It is to- 

233 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


day the oldest flag, save that of Holland, 
now flown by a civilized nation. 

‘‘Sometimes I wonder why we do not 
love our banner more. Why is it, I won- 
der, that we so often sit with covered 
heads when the flag is raised or the ‘Star 
Spangled Banner’ is played? Why should 
we be outdone by the gallant Southerners, 
who go wild every time they hear the 
strains of ‘Dixie?’ Why need we wait un- 
til we are in foreign lands before the sight 
of the flag shall thrill us? Let us, my 
young friends, not be afraid to be Ameri- 
cans. Let us not always wait for the spur 
of martial music before we do the brave 
and manly thing. 

“We look back upon the patriot soldiers 
of the Revolution, and their every act and 
deed seems invested with a halo and a 
charm. We long to march away with 
them to the stirring strains of fife and 
drum, and do great things for God and 
country. But to-day, though you do not 
hear the throbbing drums, there is a Call 
to Arms. ‘Right forever on the scafifold; 
wrong forever on the throne.’ This very 
day the armies of the future are being mus- 
tered in. This day you may enlist in some 
great cause. From the kindled altar of 
to-day Patriotism may snatch an ember 

234 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 


and touch some boyish lips with the old 
deathless fire. And in the service of our 
country in the ranks of every-day life 
there is a need for courage as high and 
loyal as ever hero had. 

“It is easy to get men to do their duty 
with the bullet box, but it is hard to get 
men to do their duty — the thing they 
ought to do — with the ballot box. Men 
will always take their stand for the flag 
on the field, but how hard to get them 
to take the stand in the courthouse and 
swear that evil is afoot and that certain 
men should be sent to jail. There are al- 
ways volunteers to march away in the 
Tomp and circumstance of war’ and sound 
the tocsin of alarm from every church 
tower when a foreign foe lands upon our 
shores, but when the hidden foe of graft 
and corruption and bribery is eating the 
heart out of great cities, we are as dumb 
dogs that dare not bark when the wolf 
climbs into the fold. It is always easy to 
find men who are glad to do great things 
for their country, if only they can be done 
in the ‘high Roman fashion,’ but it is hard 
to find men who will serve their country 
by paying their just taxes and insisting 
that when they are paid, they shall be well 
and truly spent. O, if ever we needed our 

235 


THE three rivers KIDS 

Paul Reveres and Nathan Hales, we need 
them now. We need men in the council 
chambers of our cities who will sign their 
names to a public measure as boldly as 
John Hancock signed the Declaration. 
We need soldiers of the common good in 
legislative halls who will cry as passion- 
ately as John Adams, ‘Sink or swim, live 
or die, survive or perish, I give my hand 
and my heart to this vote.' We need men 
of the spirit of Abraham Lincoln when he 
first saw slaves sold upon the block. Tf 
ever I get a chance,' he said, T shall strike 
this accursed thing hard.' We need men, 
young men, in school and college, in Y. 
M. C. A.'s and in every rank of life who 
will always remember that ‘plain living 
and high thinking' is the first duty of citi- 
zenship. 

“Down in the museum of the Y. M. C. A. 
at South Bend you have all seen that tree 
trunk taken from the field of Chicka- 
mauga. The other day I counted in that 
gnarled and war-torn wood thirteen pieces 
of grape and shrapnel and cannister. And 
I thought of the brave men who faced that 
fire of death as though it were nothing 
but a summer's breeze — all for country, 
nothing for themselves. I thought of fa- 
ther, son, and aged sire on the slopes of 

236 


HESIKIA^S TREASURE CHEST 

Bunker Hill with their old flint-lock mus- 
kets facing the best troops of Europe — all 
for country, nothing for themselves. I 
thought of the Continental soldiers at Val- 
ley Forge, sitting around their winter 
camp fires, starving, freezing, dying, just 
to make the Declaration good. I thought 
of Washington kneeling in prayer because 
he knew that 'except the Lord build the 
house, they labor in vain that build it’ — all 
for country, nothing for themselves. And 
I can’t help feeling that the Declaration 
still needs its defenders, democracy still 
needs her soldiers. 'All men are created 
equal.’ Sometimes we hear sneers at that, 
but we know that the Anglo-Saxon race 
will never strike out a single word from 
that great Declaration. Sometimes we 
hear men sneer at the failures of popular 
government. But we know that democ- 
racy, with all its follies and failures, stands 
for all that has been achieved thus far in 
the world-long struggle for liberty under 
law. Democracy will not fail. Govern- 
ment of the people will not perish from the 
earth. Do you know what Fisher Ames 
said about democracy — Fisher Ames, one 
of the great orators of the Revolution — in 
contrasting democracy with monarchy? 
This is what he said: 'A monarchy is like 

237 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


a man-of-war, beautiful in motion, irresist- 
ible when under way, but a single hidden 
rock sends her to the bottom; while de- 
mocracy is like a raft, always in trouble, 
your feet always wet, but nothing can 
sink her.’ 

'‘This is the All Souls’ Day of America. 
To-day democracy is making up her jew- 
els. To-day young hearts are being fired 
with the tales of devotion and self-sacri- 
fice. To-day strong men are being spurred 
on to heroism in the service of their city. 
State, or Nation. And we know that, 
however great the evils of our time, our 
country will live on if we will always re- 
member, each year, this day to keep it 
holy.” 

As he finished and sat down, there was 
hearty applause; then the boys rose, and 
with spirits moved and enthusiasm thor- 
oughly awakened they sang "America” 
with a merry ring. 

The news of the discovery at the camp 
spread through the countryside like wild- 
fire, and by dinner time farmers were 
coming from every direction to see the 
chest of Hesikia and to add their bit of 


238 


HESIKIA’S TREASURE CHEST 

hearsay to the rapidly growing volume of 
information concerning the strange old 
man. 

Every spare moment for the rest of the 
day was filled with speculating and secret 
planning for the recovering of the other 
treasures, for it was commonly believed 
that the real treasure was concealed in the 
other chests. 

Large numbers of visitors came to wit- 
ness the water sports in the afternoon, and 
to see the grand display of fireworks in the 
evening, but running through and above 
everything else was the intense interest in 
the secrets of Hesikia Thomson. Every 
bit of information that any one secured 
was passed from mouth to mouth until it 
became current news. A thousand plau- 
sible stories of just how it all happened 
and its real meaning were discussed and 
compared until at last, when the visitors 
had gone, taps had sounded, and every boy 
was in his bed, his only thought was, 
‘'How long would it be until the morrow?’’ 
Every boy in camp talked himself to sleep 
that night, then dreamed fanciful dreams 

239 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


of buried fortunes and mysterious secrets 
written in unsolvable ciphers. 

‘‘And-a, gee, 'Coop,’ I ’ll bet the ghost 
is mad to-night,” said Bill. 'T ’m glad I ’m 
not hunting frogs, aren’t you?” But 
Cooper did n’t answer, for he was already 
dreaming marvelous dreams of things 
that could n’t be, of chests, and ghosts, and 
mysteries. 


240 


CHAPTER XIV 


IN WHICH SOME THINGS ARE 
EXPLAINED 

M ORNIN’, sonny! Is this that there 
Camp Hardforever I ben bearin' 
so much 'bout here lately?" The 
speaker was a very old man who had just 
driven into the camp property, and was 
addressing the first boy he chanced to 
meet. 

''Camp what?" questioned Vincent, an 
amused smile playing on his face. Then, 
without giving the old man a chance to re- 
ply, he continued, "You mean Camp Eber- 
hart, do n't you?" 

"Yep, yep. Camp Everhard, that's it. 
The place where ye jest lately dug up ole 
Thomson's vallbles." 

"Yes, sir, this is the place," answered 
Vincent in a friendly way. "Would you 
like to see the things that were in the 
chest?" 


16 


241 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


The old man with some difficulty 
climbed out of his buggy and calmly sur- 
veyed the camp grounds, the lodge, and 
the beautiful lake. His eye finally rested 
on the row of big green rocking chairs on 
the broad veranda of the lodge. Turning, 
he hobbled to the nearest one and sat 
down. 

''Wal, sir, things sure does change; they 
sure does change. It ’s ben a mighty lot 
o’ years sence I ben on to this here land, 
an’ it sure has changed. 

“I live over north o’ here ’bout ten mile 
er so, lived there all my life, an’ sence this 
blue blazin’ rheumatics lies got inter my 
jints I ain’t ben around much.” 

He leaned back comfortably in the big 
chair, and after a long and careful search 
through his pockets, drew out an old corn- 
cob pipe and a plug of tobacco. Then sud- 
denly, as if aware that he had made a 
mistake, he slipped it quickly into his 
pocket again, and, looking up at Vincent 
a little sheepishly, said: 

‘Tardon, sonny, ye do n’t allow no 
smokin’ here, do ye?” 

242 


SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 


Vincent assured the old man that he 
was welcome to smoke if he wished, and 
with a smile of pleasure he again brought 
forth the old pipe, filled and lighted it. He 
sat silently smoking for some seconds, 
then Vincent, who was a little abashed at 
the old man’s silence, spoke up. 

'‘Did you say you would like to see the 
things that were in the chest?” he in- 
quired, by way of encouragement. 

“Yes, yes, sonny,” said the old man, 
slightly startled, for he had evidently been 
dreaming. 

“Yep, I would, if it ain’t no trouble,” he 
continued, between puffs. “Yes, sir, I’d 
like ter. It is so different, this here land. 
Oncet it wus covered with the grandest 
timber ye ever see in yer life. Great oaks 
an’ whitewoods, an’ hickory. Why, when 
I wus a young feller, my father an’ me 
come inter these here woods to cut a set 
o’ barn timbers, an’ they ’re standin’ over 
on my place yet. In them days there 
wa’n’t ary a clearin’ around these lakes, 
jest timber clean to the water’s edge, an’ 
Indians an’ game o’ every kind. I ’ve seen 

243 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


them woods over yonder so full o’ wild 
pigeons in the evenin’ thet ye could go in 
an’ kill ’em with a club. Oncet I shot the 
biggest buck thet ’s ever ben seen in this 
here country, down yonder on thet point. 
It wus early evenin’. I ’d come to fish, an’ 
the old buck come down t’ drink, an’ I 
shot him frum my dugout. I ’ve killed 
wild ducks an’ geese by the hundred frum 
them cat-tails off that long sandbar. But, 
sonny, them days is gone, an’ now we ’re 
civilized.” He laughed a dry, cackling 
little laugh, like autumn leaves blowing 
through the frosty forest. 

Several of the boys had come on to the 
scene by this time, and realizing that a 
story was in progress, quietly edged in to 
where they could sit down and listen. 

‘T camped all the year round them days, 
boys, an’ I did n’t hev no tent ner city 
boats like as ye ’ve got neither. Dad an’ 
me made our own boat out o’ a great 
whitewood, burned it out with hot rocks 
evenin’s after the work wus done. They 
wus jest a small clearin’ on this here farm 
then, an’ when Dad did n’t need me fer a 
244 


SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 


few days I M come over an’ work fer this 
ole feller Thomson. He wus a queer 
ole—” 

'‘Did you work for Hesikia?” asked half 
a dozen eager boys in one breath. 

“Did you actually know old Thomson?” 
asked Vincent a second time, just to be 
sure he had heard aright. 

“I certainly did know him, sonny, an’ 
worked fer him, too,” said the old man. 
“He owes me fer three days o’ grubbin’ 
stumps yet, the ole rascal. 

“I seen some time afore his wife left 
him thet he wus actin’ queer like, an’ some- 
times he never come home fer days, an’ 
when he did come he ’d work day an’ night 
t’ make up fer lost time. Seemed like he 
believed an evil spirit wus after him, er 
somethin’. 

“The last spring afore he went clean 
plumb crazy, I recollect the corn wus up 
about a foot an’ doin’ fine. I wus a-helpin’ 
him cultivate it. Wal, sir, I went home 
fer a couple o’ days, an’ when I come back 
to work I seen every last stalk o’ that there 
corn pulled up an’ a-layin’ in the field. I 

245 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


asked the ole feller Tout it, an’ he ups 
an’ says the spirits told him t’ do it, ’cause 
they had learned him how t’ turn stones 
inter gold, an’ he would n’t need t’ work 
no more. Then he fetched me t’ the house 
an’ told me a great rigamarole about blue 
herons, an’ swamps,’ an’ moonlight, an’ 
sech blatherin’, an’ ended up by givin’ me 
a handful o’ stones as my pay, an’ tellin’ 
me t’ jest do with ’em as he said an’ I ’d 
hev gold.” 

“Why, that ’s just what he says about 
the stuff out of the chest,” interrupted 
Harold. 

“He did, eh?” 

“Yes. Do n’t you want to see the 
things?” urged Harold, rising to lead the 
way. 

The old man got upon his shaky legs 
and hobbled into the office, where the con- 
tents of the chest was spread out so that 
it could be seen without being handled. 

The old man surveyed the things before 
him for an instant, and the friendly smile 
slipped from his face. He stood speech- 
less for several seconds, his face blank. 
246 


SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 


Then he began to mutter strange, inco- 
herent sentences, saying over and over 
again, as he handled each article, ''Wal, by 
gol! Wal, by gol!” At last he turned 
to the boys, a fierce, cold glint in his eyes. 

''So ole Dad -wus right, after all, after 
all.’’ The boys were puzzled. 

"Well, what do—” 

Vincent held up his finger, motioning 
the boy who had started to speak to be 
quiet. 

The old man took firm hold of the 
wicked-looking sheath-knife and raised it 
aloft, seeming to live over again some in- 
cident of the long ago. 

The boys were talking in undertones 
among themselves now, but the old man 
did not seem to hear them. He was 
dreaming. After a moment he turned and 
with half-closed eyes addressed the group 
of boys before him. 

"They wus not a man in the Secret 
Service o’ the early days, boys, but would 
o’ gone many a weary mile t’ find that 
there knife. That knife wus the property 
o’ that famous Pottawatomie chieftain, 
247 


ITHE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


Sau-au-quett, an' is the knife he wus mur- 
dered with at Coldwater in 1839. The gos- 
sip o’ the time had it that Thomson had 
hired the deed done, an’ that Duckwing 
wus the offender. Yonder is the very pair 
o’ pistols that Sau-au-quett alius wore, an’ 
that wus supposed to o’ ben in his belt 
at the time o’ his murder. They wus never 
seen agin by any one until now. Then 
Duckwing disappeared suddent from these 
here parts, but it was alius thought thet he 
wus put t’ death by the same Indian thet 
had killed his wife here on the shores o’ 
this lake several years before. 

‘‘My father uster often nod his head 
knowin’ly an’ say thet ole Thomson 
knowed more ’bout the killin’ o’ Duckwing 
than we calculated, but we uster jest laf 
at ’im. Wus they any papers er letters in 
the chest ’long with these here things?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Harold, “but the 
‘chief has them locked up ; I ’ll go and 
find him.” 

A few moments later he returned with 
the “chief,” and the papers were spread 
out for the old man’s inspection. He be- 
248 


SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 


came very much excited as he looked over 
the maps and the ciphers. 

‘‘Mighty funny/’ he was saying. “Oncet 
when I wus yet a little tad I found a big 
strip o’ birchbark in the grass on the 
island, an’ on it wus jest sech writin’ as 
this here. I took it home t’ father, an’ o’ 
winter evenin’s we uster set an’ figger at 
it, but we wus never able to complete it. 
But I recollect seein’ lots o’ them figgers. 

“I recollect after Thomson was found 
froze to death in the woods they wus some 
talk ’bout his hevin’ buried a treasure, but 
folks wus mostly o’ the opinion thet it wus 
on the island in a cave somewhere, an’ 
thet it wus mostly merchandise thet he 
hed got by tradin’ whisky t’ the Indians 
after the big treaty payment; but nothin’ 
wus ever found. Though I hev heard said 
thet them goods wus all found in a cave 
on the island by a band o’ Indians and 
wus all took away. When Thomson found 
it wus gone, he thought the evil spirits had 
took it, an’ wus afraid t’ go near the island, 
claimin’ it wus cursed forever. 

“Father told me oncet how he shot 
249 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


frum the island inter a big flock o’ ducks 
thet wus passin’ overhead, and killed 
seven. Hesikia seen ’em fall, but did n’t 
hear no shot, an’ after thet he declared thet 
birds dropped dead as they passed thet bit 
o’ land.” 

The ‘Thief” handed him the faded yel- 
low sheet bearing the strange letter from 
Hesikia’s pen. The old man read very 
slowly, for his eyes were dim, and every 
sentence wus a subject for a story. 

“Yep, the ole chest wus hisn all right, 
boys. I ’ve seen it stand behind the ole 
cabin door, but no one knowed what be- 
come of it after his death.” There was a 
silence as he read on. 

“Ha! ha! So his spirit still roams, does 
it? Wal, they T them as thinks so. 

“One time father's bull, an’ he wus a 
mean ole boy, got loose in the night an’ 
wandered over t’ a neighbor’s barnyard. 
It jest happened thet they hed ben gettin’ 
in their winter’s wood, an’ hed it piled up 
in two long piles, with jest room enough 
ter walk between. Wal, the farmer hed 
went t’ the city, an’ somehow Dad’s ole 
250 


SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 

bull got in between them two piles o’ cord- 
wood, an’ they had been stacked purty 
high. When the bull got t’ scratchin’ his- 
self on the pile, it falls on to him frum 
both sides. In jest ’bout a minute he 
wus snowed in with cordwood an’ let go 
some o’ the awfullest bellowin’ thet wus 
ever heard in this here section. The hired 
hand an’ the farmer’s wife rushed out ter 
see what wus happenin’, an’ found their 
woodpile heavin’ up an’ down, an’ the most 
awful bellowin’ cornin’ from the inside 
somewheres. The ole lady wus awful su- 
perstitious, an’ she said she knowed it wus 
Hesikia’s ghost. After a spell the bull 
worked hisself free and come home. Yep, 
they is them as says his spirit is still 
roamin’, but thet ’s where it started.” 

“But we did hear his ghost, honest, one 
night before we dug up the chest,” con- 
fided Harold, which was the signal for all 
the other fellows to laugh. Harold be- 
came very indignant, but protested that it 
was the truth. 

“Well, then what could it have been, if 
it wasn’t Hesikia’s spirit?” he asked of 

251 


THE THREE RIVERS KIDS 


the old man. But he had gone on with his 
reading, and the question was never an- 
swered. 

The smile again faded from his kindly 
old face as he read aloud: 

‘But because of the great sin he took 
them all away from me but one, the least 
of them.’ Thet great sin must hev some- 
thin’ t’ do with ole Duckwing. I wonder 
if he did — ” But he never finished the 
thought, at least aloud. 

“Ole Runnin’ Water wus the medicine 
man o’ the Nottawas,” he continued. “An’ 
most likely some time Thomson scared 
him with the spirit talk. Ole Runnin’ Wa- 
ter must o’ brought him his twelve best 
arrer-points as a gift fer which Hesikia 
wus ter keep off the evil spirits frum the 
Indian an’ his family. I ’ve heard my fa- 
ther tell o’ how many valuable beaver 
skins the ole hermit got frum the Indians 
in jest thet way. 

“ ‘The luck stone saved her from the 
evil one — ’ His wife, I calculate, ’cause 
she always wore a little white stone on a 
252 


SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 


cord about her neck. Some priest hed give 
it to her as an omen o’ good luck. 

^The knife that drank his life’s blood 
is cursed forever.’ Wal! wal! 

'' 'The man may claim his papers, Duck- 
wing knows how came I by them.’ ” He 
pondered the meaning of these words for 
some seconds, then rising from his chair, 
he exclaimed: 

"My dad wus right, all right, ’bout ole 
Sau-au-quett’s murder.” 

Again he handled carefully the old guns, 
the knives, and the powder horn, and after 
a prodigious yawn he lighted his pipe and 
passed out on to the porch. 

"Do you suppose it ’s worth our while 
digging for the other chests?” eagerly 
questioned Vincent. 

"Wall, sonny, I ’ll tell ye,” said the old 
man, "they ain’t no use whatever in diggin’ 
too deep inter a man’s past. Ye alius finds 
things that disappints ye. If the ole fel- 
ler ’s got any more chests, ye better leave 
’em in the ground, ’cause the ole feller 
probably done the best he knowed how, 
253 


THE three rivers KIDS 


an’ foolish people’s notions has made a lot 
out o’ nothin’. These here Indians most 
alius deserved all they got, even if they 
wus mistreated sometimes. 

'‘Do n’t never any o’ ye boys bury no 
secrets, never, ’cause sure as shootin’ some 
feller ’ll come erlong in a hundred years 
an’ dig ’em all up, an’ you ’ll be sorry, 
’cause they ’ll all be misunderstood by 
some wise fellers, sure. I must be a-goin’ 
now.” 

So saying, the old man hobbled to his 
buggy and painfully got into it. After 
thanking the boys for showing him round, 
and inviting them to come and see him, 
he drove away. 

Vincent watched him drive slowly down 
the hill and out of the gate, then turning 
to his companions, he said: 

"Come on, you kids, let ’s go and help 
some of those new fellows pass off their 
points for their Honor System. Every- 
body helped us when we came, and it ’s 
not long now till we ’ll have to be piking 
for home.” 

"Gee, I hate to think of it, do n’t you?” 

254 






if 






H ww. 



T • i .« «» f * T » 




• m f * 

% • 

• * J*f, * * 4 I[ * 





•-•“V •• 


’• .• ’• 

% 

V 




• -MJ.. '''--?• 


*• ? 1 : "*? ? 


4 P-' 


Ti* 


U . '''■fayjt 


■V'-iT . r, ■ ' - 4 ; 


." i 





■ ^ 3' 


!ki : i. ^ * 







* » 





.' t . 










p^' 


» ^ * * . ■ • i. 


\.*^V 


t p 




'p ■» 





T- •‘I 









f.rs> 









V 


•' I* 




•• f. 




. ? r- 

i- M'. ^ 




V| , 


•r 'f -ii.r 





-1 


■ --- ^ 

I « i 




SOME THINGS EXPLAINED 


said Dale. “This old camp will be aw- 
fully quiet without you fellows.'’ 

“O, well, we 'll come again next year," 
replied Vincent, “and there will be plenty 
new to keep us busy." 

Just then Cooper and “Deak" came 
slowly up the hill with a great string of 
fresh-caught fish between them. 

“Gee, whilikins!" cried “Love." “You 
fellows must have been a-fishing." 


255 



t' '* 




- ^ tA 



:*‘' . - ji.ri ,> ‘4? 

' . .V.. *■ 

* «■* •■-■' V, ^ 


^ I 



>. ,‘'»i;(.“/’f iTrTSS 

«■ ■ '. '■ ' V ■ . ■ ''■ 

•■ 7 V ^;A': 

-.-■ • . ; .. f • . '1 ■■ •■■: '1^1 ~ 

■# Ji, ^ 4 V. 

>■■ , 7 . 1 ; 

^ ' ■i'v k ^* - 









/ » 


r. 


« < • •< » . H 


V' '. V; • ‘ •>■• ' W ■ ' vv •- 

; ,.T;, .■■V[ . Baa 


' ♦ . *z ' ■ M 




: ‘VL.i'' 


:• ■^' /iO:v. 

•> Vl .'■ 




•t. 


ll 


'••*' • 'J'-.' '••‘.o' • ■■ ■ :.' 




p, . i<‘ ' ; 


• ^ 





• » 



»> 


• I 


V* 



- • ♦ 


‘•'.I 


1 ...^^.^*; v', 

i '••< • ■ » V 

• V » •* .. ‘ 




* I* 





4 ' • 


I 4 


• \ -r.» 



> : 


> S , f 









^ % 



^ 4 A ^ 


V.h' . 


' ' •■; 4A% ;v.^ 


4 4 


•* < .■ 


w 


■ ■ av' , 



• T 


.\ 


.1 


«/» 


• V • • 


•< •>.* 




4 ^ 


•V. > 









,» .■ . y ' ■■■‘■' ■'.■y r ‘f i 


. r 4 ^ 4 




m 


• !< r 






'V* 






■'...'♦r - 'V. ; .'>■<!; V ;,-’■< 
J V* 1 >.‘.* ' ‘•v' • 


*A 


'it 


Lt 


' 4 


’V . 



'■ '* I 


^ Sh' ' 


»».-> 


aV ■ '- • 


fir»i 


MMfi'l*:.. ,4 Vi '9WX'V«^^' • - •*'^<L. 'V' < j<l .* »’ 

o i? - , 'iM- ■'■M 


' •' I 


-r 


. 4 ‘?l 4 .: 


sf 



.‘-.i OM,,- ■ ■•'il'-'ri.:v'« 


« 4 


V . 

I 


• . ^ I 





■m 


i , 

• « . -I 













Wf\i* 
^^X’S- 


jr A ■ ■ 1 '. ^r^-wr*^i '/_ c 


\ .'^1 


^.K'V . ••i.» 


k'p 


.11 




^•\ 




1 ' . .• ’i t *j 


‘..♦j 


,.j , . 


ii 


s: 1. 


.1 


0^,, yVi 


■ »'• ■i,'('i 


I I 


:-A . L. K 

•>.•7 . • 


V 


• * t 


• . ,■ - ( f ' : jmHPsBl'M/K',-' « V'lvv >; r-"' '■ ■ 

.-A., -ufi; ji3v'*j^K»ri. ■' .Ar.V', .. .i . 


li'*. 


/ * ✓' ■*»* , 

«A/i ■ '■ 

■.f> • '■' 

\y 




7** > 


v\t 


■li 


I’i 


I ■ f 


wfa ’r '''^^ 

ft " '-V 




yt 




m 


-Jt^\ 


m 




9J/ ?[A >' 


'f 


-t' L 




Mil 


\t,li 


"4^ 


Vi ^ 

t ' ’■' ^ • /'. V' 

:• ‘ ■’ ' L. arfi ♦. 



. " -' .1 






■,«' 


■f ' 


'V 


/• 




>v. 




i t' 


, ’-r 


» V 






II 


1 . . 1 ' I ► -4. 




'b 








/ •:'« 


'l\ 


u\ , 


f' * f' 


It 


1 I 


.* •* /J 


I' ' • 


) • 


4"':,. 


i' 






>v 










T '.1 t • 


i 


r". 




.* 


t '< 


I#r 




■>i, 


ft . ,ft>. 

■ ' /I'lfcr 

♦ r. * 


1 V •■; • • ' 

' « .,• , *’ n ^ 

-(ii ; *•'' ' ' 

r '* ' .' 


\ ^ 


.K-’,, -> ',w Ml 

‘ ' U‘.'^>A „ 


m 


1 •*' ' 










lit r'.y^^ 


Ml 


t I *^’T1.I 








^ > r, 


• ^ f 




•(. 


.‘•■'Si 




"■• B 


<■ ’. 


♦ 












wii 


IWl 


\ .' 


'A ■ 


.V 


i>; 


. * 


‘f 






t L. 






■ ' /'. m 

r<: ft ’'^'■v“l'',’'‘ ’’ 

\ W i' i'^;.''''’'v.' .; ' . '> 


i » 'J 


' * > 




'« Vi 








k** » 


'I* 


< i’ 








St 


Ki' ft 


}*i '• 






\U 


f 71 






I 


>-, ■<-•' f ■ 


e 


.* .* V 




V7 




M... 


Si I 


r ft' . 


,!«• 


.If 




fTv''' 'vft' , jiVWl 

y» .M'ti '■'.'{ 

; * fS\' .. f,> '! ^ 7i> 


% 


-I 


.im* 


\ 


I ‘ 'i 

m 




m 


A 1“# 




.■ft u.ftft'^ tft.i'/i ' 


M *i. 


i#rj 




A 


1 * 


My 


I . 


U 


' ‘'7' 'i r '1'^' 7iiV 

■ ,. .,7;V ^ ’ 


•*-iiy 


f*. 




V/;)i 


ii.i 










*i« 


yew 


i 




i 


>t-r’‘ 


If* .. V' • A. . » 

if ! 6. y *;> •>. 

*, » • > C' ' 


.PA'a>:.' 




'A: -.ni-riti ; .i'ftSk ITS' 


t. #*' ftjivft’fft 

-’>>> ft’ 


Wi 


-■•■••.I 'T'**'/,. .!.. 


•r « jn 




.4.1 






t*'S 


■»i'JL*^*i 




;VJ’’ 


>.V 










